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THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 


O'BRIEN  AND  MACDONALD 

Who  fought  their  way  together  out  of  "The 

Black  Hole"  of  Germany  and  over 

the  HoUand  Border 


/THE  KAISER 
^     GUEST 


BY 

PRIVATE  FRANK  C.  MacDONALD 


L' 


ILLUSTRATED 


PRINTED  BY 

COUNTRY  LIFE  PRESS 

FOR 

FRANK  C.  MacDONALD 

1 91 8 


^^ 


COPYRIGHT,  I918,  BY 

FRANK  C.  MacDONALD 

ALL  RIGHTS  RESERVED,  INCLUDING  THAT  OF 

TRANSLATION  INTO  FOREIGN  LANGUAGES, 

INCLUDING  THE  SCANDINAVIAN 


This  history  of  nine  months  in  the  trenches  and  a 
year  of  slavery  in  the  prison  camps  of  Germany  I 
dedicate  to  the  memory  of 

THE  LATE  LIEUT-COLONEL  A.  E.  SHAW 

Officer  Commanding  the  First  Canadian  Mounted  Rifles 
KILLED  IN  ACTION  AT  THE  BATTLE  OF    SANCTUARY  WOOD 

JUNE  2,  I916 

and  to  the  original  members  of  the  Battalion.  By 
them,  gallant  soldiers  and  good  comrades,  he  was 
loved  and  respected  as  one  of  the  finest  soldiers  who 
has  gone  to  France — impartial  in  his  judgment,  fear- 
less in  his  duty,  kind  to  his  horse,  and  considerate 
of  his  men,  a  gallant  soldier  and  a  true  gentleman. 


FOREWORD 

By  sir  SAM  HUGHES 

Lieut.-General 

"The  Kaiser's  Guest"  is  a  very  interesting  book 
written  by  Private  Frank  C.  MacDonald,  No.  106,416, 
1st  Canadian  Mounted  Rifles,  who  was  made  a  pris- 
oner on  June  2,  1916,  at  Sanctuary  Wood,  and 
who  escaped  from  a  German  Prison  Camp  in  West- 
phaUa,  in  1917. 

Private  MacDonald's  story  of  his  three  attempts 
to  regain  his  freedom  is  full  of  startling  revelations 
and  thrilling  experiences.  He  is  a  good  type  of  the 
Canadian  soldier,  in  courage,  hopefulness,  fearless- 
ness, persistence,  resourcefulness,  and  determination. 

Sam  Hughes. 


d 


CONTENTS 

rAGE 

Foreword vii 

Introduction .         3 


CHAPTER 


I.  From  England  into  France    ...  5 

II.  Into  the  Thick  of  Things      ...  23 

III.  Trench  Life  Day  by  Day       ...  41 

IV.  Up  to  the  Ypres  Salient        ...  48 

V.  That  Terrible  Day  at  Sanctuary 

Wood 63 

VI.  In  the  Hands  of  the  Kaiser's  Min- 
ions         79 

VII.  Starvation  Conditions  in  Dulmen  .  92 

VIII.  Into  "the  Black  Hole"  of  Germany  107 

IX.  Freedom    Shortlived  — The     First 

Attempted  Escape 127 

X.     Into  Holland,  But !    ....  142 

XI.  Slave  Conditions  in  the  "Kokerie"  154 

XII.  Another  Try  for  Freedom     .      .     .  163 

XIII.  My  Death  Sentence 181 

XIV.  Transferred  to  M"nster      .      .      .  194 
XV.  Various  Incidents  in  Camp  and  Out  212 

XVI.  Out  OF  THE  "Black  Hole's'*  Clutches  224 

XVII.  Back  TO  Blighty  and  Home  Again     .  240 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

O'Brien  and  MacDonald,who  fought  their  way 
together  out  of  "The  Black  Hole"  of  Ger- 
many and  over  the  Holland  Border  .  Frontispiece 

FACING    PAGE 

The  Author,  from  photograph  taken  in  Hol- 
land three  days  after  his  escape 4 

The  Author,  from  photograph  taken  in  Lon- 
don a  few  weeks  later 5 

"Wally**  Nicholson,  from  a  photograph  taken 
in  a  prisoner's  uniform 68 

One  side  of  a  postal  sent  from  Friedrichsfelde 
riamp 98 

Unloading  Red  Cross  parcels  at  Friedrichsfelde 
Camp 98 

Crippled  prisoners  working  in  the  flower  beds 
at  Friedrichsfelde  Camp 148 

Statement  of  complaint  made  by  the  Author 

and  W.  H. to  the  officer  commanding 

K  47 196 

Even  a  little  fun  at  times.  British  soldier- 
prisoners  Taking  part  in  a  "sketch"  in 
Munster  Camp 204 

Official  communication 212 

The  tailor  shop  in  Munster  Camp 216 

Housecleaning  day  at  Munster  Camp   ,     .     .     216 

The  Map  which  brought  the  Author  out  of 
Germany 234 


/ 

/ 


THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 


THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 


INTRODUCTION 

"  The  Kaiser  s  Guest."  That  title  had  a  good  deal 
of  meaning  for  me.  And  I  believe  you  will  agree 
that  this  is  warranted  when  you  read  the  story. 

It  takes  me  back — whenever  I  think  of  it  (and 
no  matter  what  I  do  or  try  to  think  of,  the  memory 
of  it  is  always  with  me  because  it  is  seared  inefface- 
ably  into  my  brain) — it  takes  me  back  to  a  gallant 
little  band  of  fellows,  with  hearts  as  stout  as  God 
ever  put  into  man,  most  of  them;  back  there  in  the 
fall  of  'i6  and  the  spring  of  '17  in  the  Auguste  Vic- 
toria prison  camp — the  "Black  Hole"  of  Germany, 
The  name  was  bestowed  in  one  of  the  few  humorous 
moments  we  had  then,  when — with  wounded  and 
broken  bodies,  in  a  spot  which  was  tl  ^.  nearest  ap- 
proach to  Hell  I  ever  expect  to  enter — ^those  savage, 
relentless,  and  cowardly  Huns  tried  to  break  our 
British  spirits. 

In  those  days  we  fought  a  battle  a  hundred  times 
harder  and  more  heart-breaking  than  anything  we 
had  had  to  face  around  Ypres  and  Hooge  and  Sanc- 
tuary Wood  a  little  time  before.  And  among  those 
conditions  one  saw  the  spirit  of  the  British  race 
stand  out  among  the  others — clean,  manly,  true, 
ready  to  suffer,  to  die;  yes,  anything  for  the  dear  land 
and  the  cause  beHeved  to  be  right. 

The  name  itself  came  this  way: 


4  INTRODUCTION 

To  distinguish  clearly  the  prisoners  from  the  guards 
and  civilians,  and  to  make  the  chances  of  escape 
more  remote,  the  Germans  provided  special  mark- 
ings for  our  clothing.  In  the  early  days  of  the  war 
this  was  done  with  paint.  Later,  strips  of  the  cloth- 
ing were  removed,  usually  from  sleeves  and  trouser 
legs,  and  strips  of  red  material  sewed  in  their  place. 
We  were  branded  as  criminals,  as  of  course  we  were 
regarded.  When  one  of  us  tried  to  escape  and  was 
brought  back — as  most  were  until  we  learned  some- 
thing of  conditions  on  the  Dutch  border — he  would 
be  honoured  with  another  decoration.  In  my  case — 
I  tried  four  times  before  I  finally  got  away — I  think 
I  was  awarded  about  all  the  decorations  going.  In 
addition  to  the  strips  on  the  arms  and  legs  they  gave 
me  a  six-inch  panel,  also  in  red,  up  the  middle  of 
my  back;  to  this,  later,  a  good,  healthy  cross-bar 
was  added.  And,  for  fear  this  might  not  suffice, 
they  reverted  to  the  paint  method  and  in  letters 
which  sprawled  over  the  whole  of  both  the  front  and 
back  of  my  tunic,  they  inscribed  me  **K.  G."  It 
really  meant  "Kriegs  Gefangenen/'  which,  being 
interpreted,  means,  *'  Prisoner  of  War."  When,  how- 
ever, I  was  let  loose  among  the  other  boys  after  this 
huge  daub  had  been  applied,  one  of  them  immedi- 
ately twisted  it  into  "Kaiser's  Guest." 

Not  so  very  inapt,  either,  was  it?  though  I  don't 
believe  any  one  will  accuse  me  of  egotism  w  hen  I  say 
that  a  more  unwilling  guest  was  never  forced  to  ac-. 
cept  his  Imperial — I  was  about  to  say  "Satanic" — 
Majesty's  invitation. 

But  first  of  all  I  must  tell  you  why  I  came  to  be 
there. 


p 


THE  AU'l  HOR 

From  photograph  taken  in  Holland  three 
days  after  his  escape 


THE  AUTHOR 

From  photograph  taken   in  Londun 

a  few  weeks  hiter 


CHAPTER  I 
From  England  into  France 

Over  and  over  again  has  been  told  the  story  of 
the  raising  of  troops  in  Canada,  of  the  trip  across, 
and  of  the  training  in  old  England.  So  we  can  take 
that  part  of  it  "as  read."  I'll  start  in  at  the  point 
where  my  experiences  seem  to  be  a  bit  different  from 
the  usual.  They  were  decidedly  different  a  little 
later  on.     But  more  of  that  later. 

We  had  been  three  months  in  England  when  we 
marched  in  that  night  from  the  Hythe  ranges  and 
got  the  word — most  welcome  it  was,  too — "We're 
under  orders  for  the  front."  Looking  back  now 
after  the  hardships  of  months  in  the  trenches  and  the 
undescribable  miseries  of  torture,  starvation,  and 
abuse  endured  during  a  year  in  the  prison  camps  of 
Germany,  I  can  realize  what  a  really  good  time  we 
had  been  having  in  England. 

Most  of  the  boys  had  been  on  leave  for  a  week  or 
two  to  Scotland  or  Ireland  and  had  come  back  loud 
in  praise  of  the  hospitality  they  had  enjoyed.  Others 
had  spent  their  time  in  "The  Smoke" — the  name 
which  our  fellows  had  jokingly  given  to  old  London. 
And  most  of  us  had  had  a  good  deal  of  fun  along  with 
the  hospitality.  How  astonished  some  of  the  good 
people  were  when  we  complained  of  the  cold.  They 
seemed  to  think  their  cold,  drizzling  rains  and  raw, 
damp  breezes  blowing  in  off  the  sea  made  up  an  ideal 


6  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

summer  weather.  They  couldn't  understand  how  a 
lot  of  husky  boys  such  as  we  were — dressed  for  winter 
and  coming  from  "Our  Lady  of  the  Snows,"  with  all 
its  blizzards  and  zero  weather — could  be  cold  in 
England. 

And  oh,  what  a  chance  there  was  for  the  lad  with  a 
taste  for  fiction.  And  who  hadn't — in  the  circum- 
stances? The  Canadians  were  in  high  favour  in 
England.  The  First  Division  had  already  made  its 
reputation  in  France  and  in  .consequence  the  good 
people  were  eager  to  hear  more  of  the  life  and  condi- 
tions which  had  bred  such  splendid  natural  fighters. 
So  most  of  the  stories  told,  I  am  afraid,  were  not 
likely  to  stimulate  emigration  to  Canada  after  the 
war. 

But,  to  get  down  to  business. 

We  had  left  Canada,  of  course,  in  the  expectation 
of  making  a  name  for  ourselves  as  cavalry.  As  yet 
it  had  not  been  realized  how  far  the  first  three  years 
of  the  great  struggle  were  to  be  carried  on  under — or 
rather  in — the  ground.  And  while  the  battalion  had 
several  times  volunteered  to  go  to  the  front  as  in- 
fantry, we  still  had  our  horses  and  were  hammering 
away  at  cavalry  drill. 

We  were  marching  in  light  order  that  day — belts, 
bandoliers,  and  rifles — and  as  the  head  of  our  long, 
dusty  column  swung  in  at  the  camp's  main  gate  we 
seemed  to  sense  a  change  in  the  air.  The  whole 
camp  was  on  the  qui  vive.  There  was  new  life  and 
force  in  the  "Present  Arms'*  of  the  guards  as  we 
swung  by.  The  old  "fed-up"  way  of  doing  things 
had  disappeared.  All  over  the  camp  we  could  see 
the  men  gathered  in  groups  talking  earnestly.  As 
each  regiment  of  the  ist  Brigade,  Canadian  Mounted 
Rifles,  received  the  order:  "Head,  right  wheel," 
which  brought  it  out  of  the  line  to  its  respective 


FROM  ENGLAND  INTO  FRANCE     7 

parade  ground,  the  groups  In  camp  dissolved  and 
sought  their  chums  in  the  marching  columns  to  pass 
on  the  good  word.  The  battle  of  Loos  was  then  on 
and  rumour  had  it  that  we  were  billed  there.  If  so, 
we  were  Hke  all  other  support  for  the  gallant  High- 
landers— late!  But  while  the  Twenty-fourth  and 
the  Guards  divisions  arrived  late,  we  never  arrived 
there  at  all. 

The  squadrons  broke  away  to  the  stables  and  we 
wondered,  as  we  cleaned  and  fed  our  horses,  whether 
we  were  at  last  to  lose  our  best  friends.  We  were 
not  long  kept  in  doubt,  for  after  supper  we  were 
paraded  again  and  told  that  we  were  to  turn  our 
horses  over  to  the  artillery,  draw  infantry  equipment 
and  boots,  and  get  ready  to  proceed  to  France 
"shortly." 

Our  training  had  included  very  little  marching 
and  that  had  all  been  done  in  Canadian  boots  and 
Hght  cavalry  equipment.  Consequently  we  viewed 
with  not  particularly  friendly  feehngs  the  heavy, 
steel-soled  English  boots  and  the  huge  packs  issued 
the  following  morning.  Those  packs  were  the  ex- 
cuse for  a  varied  amount  of  cursing  that  day.  No 
one  seemed  to  have  the  faintest  notion  of  how  the 
stuff  should  be  put  together,  and  when  we  started 
out  in  the  afternoon  for  a  twelve-mile  route  march 
1  don't  think  two  men  in  the  regiment  had  their  packs 
arranged  in  the  same  way.  However,  we  managed 
to  get  things  settled  down  and,  two  nights  after  the 
first  word  had  been  circulated  in  the  camp,  we  were 
ready  for  the  great  adventure.  Supper  was  dished 
out  early  but  no  one  had  much  appetite  for  it.  We 
were  too  busy  planning  for  the  change  and  specu- 
lating on  what  awaited  us  across  the  Channel. 

All  summer  long,  while  tramping  over  the  hills, 
digging   trenches   or   dug-outs   in  the   flinty   chalk 


8  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

cliffs  of  Kent;  scouting,  bombing,  or  charging  an 
imaginary'  enemy,  whenever  opportunity  offered; 
our  eyes  would  instinctively  be  directed  across  the 
choppy  waters  of  the  Channel  to  where  the  shores  of 
France  rose  dimly  out  of  the  mist,  and  every  man, 
doubtless,  wondered  what  the  future  held  for  him 
over  there.     Now  we  were  shortly  to  find  out. 

With  supper  over,  kits  packed,  and  everything 
shipshape,  ready  for  the  "Fall  in"  call,  most  of  the 
boys  could  be  seen  saying  good-bye  to  their  horses. 
Riding  them,  caring  for  them,  living  with  them  for 
nearly  a  year,  a  man  with  any  sentiment  in  him 
naturally  becomes  somewhat  attached  to  the  animal 
that  has  served  him  faithfully  if  treated  fairly.  I'm 
not  ashamed  to  confess  that  a  lump  rose  in  my 
throat  when  I  stroked  the  glossy  neck  of  my  beauti- 
ful mare,  Hula  Hula. 

The  name?  Well,  she  was  named  by  the  boys, 
in  a  joke,  after  a  Hawaiian  contortionist  some  of 
them  had  seen,  because  of  her  bad  behaviour.  She 
bore  the  brands  of  thirteen  ranches,  which  went  to 
show  that  she  had  been  traded  about  twice  a  year, 
since  she  was  only  about  seven  years  old.  When  she 
was  turned  over  to  me  by  Major  A.  M.  S.  Ross,  the 
C.  O.  of  my  squadron,  she  was  still  untrained  and 
about  as  wild  as  they  make  them.  Major  Ross — 
who  spoke  his  mind  in  the  most  plain,  unpolished 
language  possible,  but  to  whom  "^  his  troopers  could 
speak  as  man  to  man,  and  vvho  was  universally  re- 
spected because  of  his  manly  qualities — told  me  to 
take  the  mare  and  to  spend  two  weeks  away  from  the 
regiment  to  break  her.  While  I  finally  managed  the 
breaking  process  she  never  became  docile  and  would 
buck  and  cut  up  continually.  She  was  coveted  by 
every  officer  in  the  regiment  for  her  beauty  and  speed 
but  they  all  admired  her  from  a  safe  distance.     No 


FROM  ENGLAND  INTO  FRANCE     9 

one  else  ever  cared  to  ride  or  feed  her  because  of  her 
evil  temper.  While  she  would  put  back  her  ears  and 
kick  every  time  a  stranger  appeared  she  never  kicked 
me,  and  when  her  heels  were  cracked  and  sore  and 
needing  attention,  she  would  stand,  while  I  fixed 
them  up,  but  trembling  with  nervousness  and  every 
muscle  standing  out  like  iron  beneath  her  glossy 
skin.  No,  it  was  a  sore  point  to  leave  Hula  Hula. 
But  I  met  her  again  in  different  circumstances. 

We  shall  most  of  us  remember,  I  think,  even  in 
spite  of  the  terrible  things  that  happened  afterward, 
the  sights  of  that  day.  All  the  boys  had  told  their 
sweethearts — (yes,  they  had  managed  to  make  them 
in  three  months,  all  right) — and  friends  of  our  going; 
the  fence  around  the  camp  was  lined  with  people  to 
see  us  off.  Finally  the  long-awaited  "Fall  in" 
sounded  and  our  famous  mounted  Bagpipe  Band,  the 
second  of  its  kind  in  the  world,  played  us  into  line 
and  marched  ahead  of  us  to  the  boat.  As  we  swung 
through  the  gate  many  people,  mostly  girls,  fell 
in  alongside  their  friends  and  marched  to  the  gates 
of  the  pier.  There  final  good-byes  were  said,  some 
of  them  touching,  some  funny.  For  instance,  one 
little  girl  who  was  crying  quietly,  said  in  a  thin,  high 
voice  to  the  boy  beside  me:  "Good-bye,  Frank,  dear. 
Don't  forget  me."  All  eyes  turned  to  Frank  who  in 
his  turn  became  very  red.  No  one  spoke  then,  and 
indeed  no  one  felt  very  funny  just  at  the  moment. 
Later,  when  the  lumps  in  our  throats — which  had 
somehow  cropped  up  just  about  then — had  disap- 
peared, Frank  was  very  frequently  reminded  by 
his  chums,  in  high,  piping  voices,  that  they  didn't 
expect  to  be  forgotten. 

We  won't  easily  forget  that  boat  trip,  either. 
From  the  pier  the  whole  brigade  was  crowded  on 
one  little  side-wheeler.     By  this  time  it  was  dark 


10  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

and,  since  no  lights  of  any  kind  were  allowed,  the 
hatches  were  closed.  Down  below  we  were  so 
closely  packed  and  the  air  was  so  bad  that  a  few  of 
the  boys  fainted  and  some  started  bleeding  at  the 
nose.  We  thought  our  entrance  into  England  had 
been  none  too  pleasant.  But  our  departure  was 
even  worse.  Of  course  we  excused  it  all  by  saying 
that  we  were  at  war  and  that  allowances  must  be 
made  because  of  this. 

Mightily  reassuring  it  was,  I  don't  think,  to  be 
cooped  up  like  that  below  decks  in  a  little  steamer 
and  to  think  what  would  happen  if  anything — you 
will  know  what  "anything"  means — should  hit  her 
as  she  ploughed  her  way  steadily  across  the  Channel 
in  the  darkness.  However,  we  were  only  aboard 
about  two  hours  when  she  docked  safely  and  we 
were  able  to  disembark  and  get  some  fresh  air. 

And  then  came  our  first  sight — or  rather  first  feel, 
for  the  night  was  black  as  India  ink — of  France. 
We  were  lined  up  in  long  rows,  loaded  down  with 
rifles,  ammunition,  and  equipment,  while  orders 
were  passed  along:  "No  smoking.  No  talking." 
Then  with  "Sections  right;  Quick  march,"  we  were 
off,  stumbling  silently  along  until  we  came  out  from 
the  long  line  of  wharves  and  on  to  the  round,  slippery, 
and  much-cursed  cobblestones  paving  the  suburban 
streets  of  France.  By  the  time  we  were  halfway  up 
what  seemed  that  night  to  be  the  highest  and  steep- 
est hill  in  the  world,  in  the  midst  of  a  cold,  drizzling 
rain,  the  pent-up  feelings  of  the  boys  broke  loose 
and  they  exercised  right  royally  the  one  undenied 
prerogative  of  the  British  soldier.  Heads  were 
thrust  out  of  windows  above  as  we  marched,  and 
their  owners  silently  watched  us.  It  came  to  me 
rather  suddenly,  once,  that  it  was  a  good  thing 
those  people  didn't  know  the  Canadian  vernacular 


FROM  ENGLAND  INTO  FRANCE  ii 

or  they  would  not  have  been  so  enthusiastic  about 
this  wholesale  invasion  of  their  country.  Say!  if 
those  cobblestones  ultimately  reach  the  place  they 
were  consigned  to  a  million  times  that  night,  some 
of  us  will  be  walking  them  again  in  the  next  world 
I  am  afraid. 

Our  first  sleep  in  France  came  all  in  good  time — 
a  good  long  time.  After  an  hour's  march  we  arrived 
at  what  seemed  to  be  a  camp,  and,  after  standing  in 
the  rain  for  another  hour,  we  were  assigned  to  tents 
and  rolled  into  our  wet  blankets.  Just  about  then  a 
stranger  stuck  his  head  into  our  tent,  meant  for  six 
but  sheltering  twelve  tired  Canadian  boys,  and  was 
about  to  withdraw  it,  apparently  satisfied  that  all 
was  as  it  should  be,  when  one  of  the  boys  shouted: 

"I  say.  Bud,  what  place  is  this?" 

The  stranger  hesitated  a  moment  and  the  most 
benevolent  smile  I  have  ever  seen  spread  over  his 
countenance. 

"This,"  he  remarked,  dryly,  "is  a  health  resort 
known  as  Boulogne  Rest  Camp.'* 

Then,  before  any  one  could  reply,  he  stumbled  ofF 
among  the  tent  ropes,  chuckling  to  himself. 

That  smile  worried  me  and  finally  I  dozed  off  and 
dreamed  that  someone  was  loading  me  down  with 
packs  until  my  feet  were  sinking  into  the  ground. 
With  every  sack  the  smile  grew  broader  until,  just 
as  the  face  was  about  to  crack,  I  woke  to  find  an  en- 
ergetic working  party  already  astir  and  piling  bag- 
gage into  the  tent  on  top  of  me,  under  the  evident 
impression  that  the  tent  was  empty.  We  organized 
a  counter-attack  and  they  were  repulsed.  A  large 
quantity  of  material  was  taken.     They  took  it. 

Reveille  sounded  at  six  and  after  a  meagre  break- 
fast we  were  each  introduced  to  a  pick  and  shovel. 
A  rest  camp!     Poor  innocents.     We  were  soon  to 


12  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

learn,  and  to  have  it  thoroughly  Implanted,  that  a 
Canadian  rest  camp  in  France  is  a  spot  where  manual 
labour  is  so  refined  and  condensed  into  such  absolute 
perfection  that  any  real  man  prefers  the  front-hne 
trenches.     Hence  the  reason  for  the  broad  smile. 

After  an  arduous  day's  work  we  were  paraded 
and  marched  down  that  memorable  hill  again  to 
the  wharves  where  we  got  aboard  a  train.  On  the 
way  down  we  saw  a  number  of  Ghurkas  and  tall, 
sinewy  Sikhs,  some  of  whom  spoke  to  us  in  very  good 
English.  I  got  into  conversation  also  with  a  French- 
Canadian  who  had  been  sHghtly  wounded  though 
not  badly  enough  to  send  him.  to  "Blighty"  and 
heard  him  bemoaning  his  hard  lot.  His  stories  in 
broken  English  of  the  terrible  things  he  had  seen  up 
the  line  were  not  speciall3'^  reassuring,  particularly 
when  he  ended  up  by  swearing  that  the  Germans 
had  invented  a  machine  by  means  of  which  they  were 
bombarding  our  trenches  with  Massey-Harris  bind- 
ers. The  laugh  that  this  provoked  offended  him  so 
that  he  refused  to  talk  further  and  strolled  off  swear- 
ing to  himself  in  broken  English. 

When  the  train  pulled  out  we  began  to  jolly  away 
with  two  or  three  of  the  British-born  lads  who  were 
with  us  as  to  conditions  in  the  Little  Island,  but  soon 
settled  down  to  get  what  rest  we  could  while  the  train 
rumbled  along,  carrying  us  slowly  nearer  the  front 
and  the  scene  of  our  ambitions. 

I  suppose  we  stopped  several  times  during  the 
night.  Most  of  us  were  too  tired  to  notice.  But  we 
knew  it  all  right  when  the  final  stop  came  about 
I  A.  M.,  when  we  were  wakened  and  tumbled  out  in  the 
darkness  of  a  cold,  rainy  morning  to  find  ourselves 
apparently  in  the  middle  of  a  great  circle  of  quivering, 
curving,  ghostly  lights.  Flares  were  shooting  high 
in  the  air,  rising  blue  and  dim  and  flaming  out  in  a 


FROM  ENGLAND  INTO  FRANCE     13 

great  yellow  blaze  as  they  turned  over  and  slowly 
sank  to  earth  again.  That  was  our  first  view  of  the 
front.  Every  time  a  flare  went  up  half  a  dozen  rifles 
cracked,  and  every  few  seconds  a  machine  gun  stut- 
tered and  just  as  suddenly  ceased  again. 

No  sounds  in  the  world  bring  the  same  sense  of 
hopeless,  heart-breaking  loneliness  as  these  which 
drift  back  from  the  front  at  night.  Every  full  rifle 
crack  seems  to  carry  a  message  of  anguish  to  the 
lonely  listener.  The  bold  defiance  of  the  machine 
guns  seems  to  die  away  again  in  dismay,  afraid  of  its 
own  echo.  And  the  lights,  those  flashing,  silent, 
yellow  lights,  lend  a  ghostly  aspect  to  the  scene  which 
helps  to  deepen  the  lonesome  feeling. 

All  of  us  experienced  those  sensations,  I  guess,  as 
we  lined  up  that  night.  To  us  it  seemed  that  we  were 
right  up  into  it,  much  closer  than  we  really  were,  and 
it  surprised  us  that  there  was  not  more  sound.  Our 
officers  were  just  as  badly  deceived  for  they  gave  the 
strictest  orders  that  no  one  was  to  speak  above  a 
whisper;  they  also  forbade  smoking.  And  I  want  to 
tell  you  that  we  had  some  queer  feehngs  just  then. 
However,  we  formed  up  with  our  packs  and  equip- 
ment and  were  soon  out  on  the  slippery  cobble- 
stones, marching  through  the  streets  of  Bailleul. 
The  streets  were  narrow,  dark,  and  deserted,  and 
had  a  badly  battered  appearance,  but  as  the  steady 
tramp  of  marching  regiments  resounded  on  the 
pavements,  windows  along  the  way  were  quietly 
raised  and  watchers  appeared. 

After  marching  about  half  a  mile  we  were  halted 
and  one  of  the  boys,  trying  to  ease  his  shoulders  by 
leaning  against  a  house,  shoved  his  pack  through  a 
window.  The  resulting  crash  and  the  rattle  of  the 
glass  on  the  stones  startled  everyone.  Our  nerves 
were  all  on  edge.     It  wasn't  much  wonder,  for  from 


14  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

the  orders  given  and  the  flares  rising,  seemingly  all 
round  us,  we  got  a  good  bright  impression  that  we 
were  right  behind  the  front  line.  However,  we  were 
not  to  see  it  for  awhile  yet.  After  plodding  for  an 
hour  through  narrow,  crooked  streets,  we  came  out 
in  the  market  square  in  the  centre  of  the  town,  and 
there,  lining  up,  one  regiment  behind  the  other,  we 
soon  had  our  packs  off,  flopped  down  on  the  cold, 
wet  cobblestones,  pulled  our  great  coats  over  our 
heads,  and  lay  until  daybreak.  When  in  the  early 
morning  we  were  hurried  off  to  billets  in  the  houses 
and  outbuildings  we  learned  from  the  French  inhabi- 
tants that  we  were  still  seven  kilometres  from  the 
front  line  and  that  the  town  had  only  been  hit  twice 
by  shells  since  the  beginning  of  the  war. 

The  town  had  been  occupied  by  the  Germans, 
however,  for  ten  days  until  they  were  driven  out  by 
the  British  cavalry,  which  charged  through  the 
streets.  One  old  lady  who  sold  us  "eggs  and  chips" 
showed  us  where  a  British  trooper  had  fallen  right 
at  her  door,  shot  from  a  window  above.  We  were 
told  also  how  two  spies  had  been  caught  in  the 
steeple  of  the  church  with  a  machine  gun  and  how 
the  British  had  hurled  them  into  the  street  below. 
We  could  scarcely  help  being  surprised,  during  the 
five  days  we  stayed  in  the  place,  at  the  happiness  of 
the  people,  living  as  they  were  within  range  of  the 
guns.  But  they  danced  and  made  merry  as  though 
they  hadn't  a  trouble  in  the  world.  British  and 
Canadian  troops  had  been  quartered  in  and  around 
the  town  for  a  long  time  and  consequently  the  peo- 
ple in  the  vicinity  had  picked  up  a  fair  knowledge  of 
English.  We  used  to  sit  around  the  houses  in  the  day- 
time w^atching  the  old  women  and  girls  work  away 
with  wonderful  dexterity  at  lace-making.  Even  little 
girls,  six  or  seven  years  old,  were  working  at  this. 


FROM  ENGLAND  INTO  FRANCE     15 

Estaminets  were  all  over  the  place.  Most  of  these 
had  a  dance  hall,  into  which  the  boys  and  girls  used 
to  crowd  almost  every  night.  The  fun  was  harm- 
less, however,  and  moral  conditions  compared  very 
favourably  with  those  existing  in  England. 

On  the  fourth  day  of  our  stay  here,  which,  by  the 
way,  happened  to  be  Sunday,  we  got  our  first  pay 
in  France.  This  amounted  to  fifteen  francs — about 
three  dollars — and  most  of  the  boys  proceeded  to 
make  good  use  of  it  at  once.  On  that  same  day, 
too,  we  saw  our  first  air  fight.  A  big  German  ma- 
chine had  ventured  across  our  lines  and  was  just 
nicely  visible,  thousands  of  feet  in  the  air.  When 
he  was  almost  over  the  town  a  dull,  stuttering  soundj, 
which  we  could  not  at  first  locate,  came  from  the 
clouds  and  suddenly  a  British  plane  appeared  out  of 
a  cloud  bank  and  made  for  the  German.  The  twoi 
planes  circled  and  soared,  with  the  hum  of  their 
motors  and  the  intermittent  stutter  of  their  machine 
guns  coming  down  to  us,  till  suddenly  the  German, 
machine,  after  an  attack  from  below  by  the  British 
plane,  began  to  show  distress  signs.  Banking  and 
dipping,  he  suddenly  dropped  for  at  least  a  thousand 
feet,  then,  seeming  to  regain  control,  he  glided  away 
toward  home  while  the  ''Archies"  spotted  the  sky. 
He  passed  out  of  sight,  but  we  learned,  when  he  was 
brought  into  the  town  wounded  next  day,  that  he 
had  been  forced  to  land  behind  our  lines. 

About  six  o'clock  on  the  fifth  day  of  our  stay  in 
the  town  we  were  warned  to  keep  near  our  billets. 
Half  an  hour  later  another  order  came:  to  pack  our 
kits  and  parade  for  inspection.  Then  another: 
to  pack  our  kits  for  transport,  v\^hich  meant  carrying 
equipment  only.  When  we  were  ready  on  this  basis 
somebody's  idea  was  changed  and  again  we  were 
ordered  to  carry  our   kits.     Finally,   after  a  good 


i6  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

deal  of  growling  and  swearing,  quite  warranted  in 
the  circumstances,  we  started  off  on  one  of  the  worst 
marches  of  my  experience.  My!  how  those  heavy 
packs  did  weight  us  down  as  we  plodded  along 
through  the  darkness  and  rain.  We  shortly  learned 
that  all  the  clothes  we  were  carrying  were  a  useless 
encumbrance  and  "ditched"  them  all  along  the 
road;  leaving  a  trail  of  shirts  and  underwear  behind 
us.  Even  our  rifles  and  ammunition,  of  which  we 
carried  two  hundred  and  seventy  rounds,  were  a  pretty 
fair  load  in  themselves. 

However,  we  kept  on  for  hours,  seemingly,  over 
the  slippery  cobblestones — footsore,  tired,  and  wet. 
The  continual  flares  were  seen  now  to  be  much 
nearer,  and  these  threw  into  relief  the  shattered 
old  buildings  along  the  road  and  lit  up  the  faces  of 
the  boys  around  me,  making  them  seem  white  and 
strained.  Huge  motor  trucks  passed  us  continually, 
forcing  us  off  on  to  the  broken  stone  on  the  side  of  the 
road  and  splashing  up  filthy,  stinking  mud.  None 
of  the  rank  and  file  knew  where  we  were  going  or 
what  we  were  going  there  for.  Our  colonel,  for  some 
unfathomable  reason,  surrounded  all  his  orders  with 
a  most  galling  secrecy  which  was  particularly  trying 
to  the  men,  who,  while  ready  to  face  anything, 
naturally  wanted  to  know  what  was  expected  of 
them.  (That  O.C.,  however,  did  not  stay  with  us 
long  in  France.  He  did  not  show  any  great  desire 
to  share  with  his  men  the  hardships  and  dangers  of 
the  trenches,  so  when  he  was  recalled  to  England, 
early  in  19 16,  very  few  farewells  were  said.) 

We  struggled  on,  however,  through  the  night, 
sullen  and  determined,  stopping  occasionally  for  a 
short  rest,  at  which  times  we  would  flop  down  in  the 
muddy  road  to  make  the  most  of  the  opportunity. 
Just  as  we  were  moving  off  after  one  of  these  halts 


J 


FROM  ENGLAND  LNTO  FRANCE  if 

a  bombing  party  away  over  on  our  left  pulled  off  a 
raid  on  the  German  trenches  and,  to  our  uninitiated 
ears,  the  fuss  they  kicked  up  was  amazing.  The  red 
blaze  of  the  bombs  luridly  lit  up  the  sky;  machine 
guns  rattled  in  a  panicky  sort  of  way,  and  in  a  few 
moments  the  artillery  began  to  contribute  its  share 
to  the  melee — a  battery  close  beside  us  roaring  out 
suddenly  with  bhnding  flashes  and  startling  us  out  of 
our  weariness,  for  the  time  being  at  least.  We 
strained  our  eyes  anxiously  toward  the  "fireworks" 
and  were  surprised  when  the  exhibition  died  out  as 
suddenly  as  it  had  begun  and,  except  for  a  few  Ger- 
man machine  guns  stuttering  nervously  at  intervals, 
everything  v^?^as  as  quiet  as  before. 

Soon  we  began  to  meet  troops  coming  down  from 
the  trenches.  We  noted  that  they  had  gotten  rid 
of  a  good  deal  of  their  equipment  and,  instead  of  the 
Ross  rifles  that  we  carried — and  which,  by  the  way, 
later  on — when  our  officers  were  not  watching  too 
closely — used  in  building  dug-outs  and  for  similar 
purposes,  they  were  armed  with  short  Lee-Enfields. 
We  asked  some  of  them  where  we  were  but  their 
answers  were  unintelligible.  Then  someone  fool- 
ishly asked  where  we  were  going.  In  a  second  a 
gruff  voice  emanated  from  the  darkness:  "Straight 
to  Hell,  if  you  follow  this  road."  We  learned  next 
day  that  the  road  led  through  Ploegsteert  and  right 
on  into  the  German  trenches. 

We  followed  it  through  Ploegsteert  and  a  little 
beyond  and  then  were  halted  for  half  an  hour  but 
finally  were  guided  to  our  billets  and  turned  in  to 
sleep  in  a  big  barn.  Very  comfortable  we  were  there, 
too.  When  we  left,  the  third  troop  of  B  Squadron 
left  their  spurs  hanging  on  a  rafter  as  a  "souvenir 
de  guerre"  for  the  Belgian  farmer. 

Any  discomfort  we  suffered  in  that  section  vras 


i8  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

attributable  to  the  greenness  of  our  troop  officer, 
and,  since  this  gentleman  is  to  occupy  a  somewhat 
prominent  place  in  the  immediate  future  of  this 
narrative  and  for  reasons  which  will  subsequently  be 
obvious  it  is  scarcely  advisable  to  mention  his  name, 
I  shall  speak  of  him  now  and  hereafter  as  Bee  Kayy 
the  cognomen  by  which  he  was  notoriously  known 
to  the  whole  regiment.  Bee  Kay  was  British  born, 
well  educated,  fairly  familiar  with  the  world  through 
travel,  and  had  been  a  very  successful  business  man. 

But  in  the  army ;  well,  he  never  should  have 

been  there.  How  a  man  who  gave  evidence  of  so 
much  innate  stupidity  ever  got,  or  could  hold  onto, 
a  commission  was  an  enigma  to  us.  He  was  ambi- 
tious and  tried  most  faithfully  to  master  the  rudi- 
ments of  our  drill  and  fit  himself  for  promotion.  But 
it  was  no  use.  He  simply  was  not  cut  out  to  be  an 
officer.  Instead  of  improving  he  became  worse. 
Added  to  these  difficulties  he  was  easily  embarrassed 
and  could  not  stand  the  chaffing  of  his  brother 
officers.  Though  he  carried  his  blundering  habits  to 
France  and  ultimately  paid  the  highest  penalty, 
along  with  tw^o  of  his  men,  for  one  of  his  stupid  mis- 
takes, he  won  the  respect  and  admiration  of  his  unit 
by  his  fearlessness  and  devotion  to  duty.  He  feared 
nothing — except  ridicule;  and,  unlike  most  brave 
men,  was  very  sensitive  on  the  question  of  courage. 
Occasionally,  for  fun,  the  other  officers  would  hint  that 
he  was  not  so  brave  as  he  might  be.  At  such  times  he 
would  turn  red  to  the  roots  of  his  hair,  his  long  nose 
would  start  to  quiver,  and  if  the  doorof  Hell  itself  had 
stood  open  in  front  of  him  I  believe  he  would  have 
stepped  in  rather  than  be  accused  of  being  afraid. 

We  got  a  demonstration  of  his  ideas  the  first  night 
we  were  near  the  front.  He  had  heard  of  the  *'  Stand 
to" — that  daily  incident  in  the  life  of  the  trenches 


FROM  ENGLAND  INTO  FRANCE     19 

when  we  all  turned  out  of  our  dug-outs  and  "lined 
the  trench"  ready  to  go  "over  the  top"  or  to  receive 
Fritz  if  he  took  a  notion  to  visit  us. 

The  "Stand  to"  is  dear  to  the  heart  of  the  soldier. 
In  that  chill,  ghostly  hour,  while  he  peers  shivering 
out  into  No  Man's  Land — where  the  heavy,  stinking 
vapours  rise  from  the  shell-holes,  and  half-opened 
graves  form  strange,  stealthy-moving  shadows — the 
"Listening  Posts"  are  in  and  no  one  knows  who  skulks 
silently  among  the  ghosts  of  No  Man's  Land.  A 
machine  gunner  in  the  enemy's  line  spitefully  sweeps 
the  parapet,  hoping  to  puncture  one  or  two  of  the 
cautious  heads  he  knows  are  peering  over  the  top 
and  knocking  bits  of  dirt  and  old  tins  about  as  he  rips 
away.  The  stuttering  gun  arouses  the  suspicions 
of  the  grim  watcher. 

"Is  that  something  moving  along  our  wire?"  He 
strains  his  eyes  through  the  wavering  shadows  and  is 
startled  by  a  touch  on  his  arm.  Turning  quickly,  he 
looks  down  into  the  gaunt  face  of  the  muddy  old 
"sergeant  that  issues  the  rum.'* 

"Here,  boy,"  whispers  the  sergeant,  as  he  holds 
up  his  little  tin  cup  half  full  of  rich  brown  rum. 
"This  'ere'll  warm  yer  ole  heart." 

In  a  second  the  prowling  ghosts  are  forgotten  and 
the  shadows  of  "No  Man's  Land"  are  fading  away, 
daylight  is  slowly  breaking,  and  a  dim,  irregular 
line  of  mist  stretching  away  in  front  marks  the 
line  where  Fritz,  like  ourselves,  is  letting  his  fires  die 
away,  so  as  to  avoid  the  unwelcome  attentions  of 
our  artillery  through  the  day. 

Bee  Kay  was  as  yet  in  happy  ignorance  of  all  this. 
He  knew  only  that  the  fateful  hour  had  arrived 
and  decided  that  his  troop  would  "stand  to." 
Anyhow  he  rummaged  round  in  the  dark  till  he  found 
a  bit  of  tumble-down  old  trench  which  hadn't  been 


20  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

used  since  the  retreat  from  Mons  and  which  was 
fully  a  mile  behind  the  front  line.  We  were  beastly 
tired  and  sleepy  after  our  long  night  march  but  that 
made  no  difference  to  Bee  Kay  and  at  the  usual  time 
we  were  wakened  and  "stood  to,"  absolutely  with- 
out reason,  in  that  old  trench. 

When  morning  broke  we  saw  passing  us  a  long  line 
of  soldiers  coming  back  from  the  trenches,  choosing 
their  own  path  and  taking  their  own  time.  They 
w^ere  mightily  surprised  when  they  saw  us  in  that 
ridiculous  position  and  the  things  they  said  made 
our  blood  boil.  If  all  the  wishes  we  heaped  on  Bee 
Kay  that  morning  had  had  any  effect,  his  end  would 
have  been  sudden  and  strange.  How^ever,  just  about 
*'stand  down"  time.  Major  Ross  came  up  the  road 
and  we  had  the  satisfaction  of  hearing  Bee  Kay 
made  the  recipient  of  an  awful  grilling  w^hile  we 
crawled  back  to  our  blankets  and  straw. 

We  were  called  for  breakfast  about  eight  that 
morning  and  were  given  strict  orders  not  to  move 
from  our  billets.  In  the  event  of  the  approach  of  a 
hostile  airplane  we  were  to  keep  perfectly  still  and 
not  to  look  up.  White  faces  turned  toward  the 
sky,  it  appears,  are  easily  picked  out  by  the  powerful 
glasses  of  the  birdmen. 

However,  Davie  Calderwood  argd  I  climbed  into 
the  loft  of  the  old  barn,  and,  renioving  one  of  the 
tiles,  made  a  tiny  window  through  which  we  could 
see  the  German  lines  about  a  mile  av/ay.  The  fore- 
ground presented  a  desolate  sight.  Winding  in  and 
about,  all  over,  w^ere  old,  flattened  trenches  and  lines 
of  rusty  barbed-wire  entanglements,  the  latter 
broken  here  and  there  by  the  shell  fire  of  earlier  en- 
gagements. Scattered  through  this  were  shattered 
trees  and  farmhouses.  It  was  a  vivid  proof  of  the 
fact  that  war  is  no  picnic. 


FROM  ENGLAND  INTO  FRANCE     21 

Davie  and  I  wanted  to  get  closer,  so  we  decided 
to  do  some  exploring  on  our  own  hook.  Descending 
from  the  loft,  we  shpped  out  of  the  building  and  down 
into  the  old  trench  we  had  occupied  so  ridiculously 
that  morning.  It  turned  out  to  be  an  old  communi- 
cation trench  running  directly  to  the  front  line.  We 
followed  this  for  about  half  a  mile,  learning  more 
about  trench  life  as  we  went  on,  and  finally  came 
out  in  an  orchard  alongside  the  ruins  of  two  or  three 
farm  buildings.  I  remember  that  orchard  well  for 
we  picked  some  delicious  pears  which  were  hanging 
ripe  and  juicy  from  the  trees  and  lying  on  the  ground. 
Just  here,  too,  we  ran  across  a  huge  pile  of  empty 
rifle  cartridges  and  concluded  that  the  tree  above 
had  been  used  as  a  sniper's  post  when  the  leaves  were 
thick  enough  to  afford  good  cover,  earUer  in  the 
year.  Rummaging  around  the  building  for  an  hour 
or  so  we  found  another  sniper's  post  built  up  in  the 
end  of  an  old  barn.  This  one  bore  the  ear-marks 
of  having  been  located  by  the  Germans,  for  the  old 
wall,  while  still  standing,  was  blazed  and  scarred 
with  shrapnel  and  bullet  holes. 

An  exciting  moment  was  to  come.  Leaving  this 
quiet  spot  we  crossed  a  field  toward  another  group  of 
buildings  farther  up  and,  when  about  halfway  across, 
came  into  plain  vi^  of  the  German  trenches.  A  rifle 
in  the  distance  cracaed  and  a  spurt  of  mud  flew  up  just 
behind  us.  Startled,  we  hesitated  for  a  moment  and  a 
machine  gun  began  to  ra-ta-ta-ta-ta  furiously,  the 
screaming  bullets  knocking  up  jets  of  earth  all  over  us. 
Then  we  bolted  Uke  scared  rabbits  for  a  long,  narrow 
ditch  we  could  see  running  across  the  field  in  front  of 
us.  Reaching  this  we  flopped  into  it  on  our  faces. 
Then,  when  we  saw  that  we  were  out  of  reach  of  that 
fire,  we  crawled  along  until  the  ditch  crossed  an  old 
fire  trench;  and  here  we  stayed  till  dark. 


22  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

Snooping  around  in  that  old  trench  we  ran  across 
a  sniper's  plate.  As  they  used  them  then  it  was  a 
comparatively  simple  thing — a  chunk  of  sheet  iron 
about  three  and  a  half  feet  square  with  a  hole  in  the 
centre  to  put  the  rifle  through,  this  hole  being  cov- 
ered by  a  sort  of  lid  which  was  raised  for  shooting 
but  dropped  down  when  the  plate  was  not  in  use. 
These  plates  were  really  death  traps,  for  when  the 
lid  was  raised  the  light  shining  through  from  the 
back  could  easily  be  seen  by  the  German  snipers 
and,  in  consequence,  many  of  our  boys  "got  it*' 
in  the  head  while  looking  through  the  opening. 

As  we  examined  this  peculiar  piece  of  equipment 
an  idea  came  to  me  to  provide  for  a  vast  improvement 
by  adding  a  safety  loophole  and  range  register. 
While  more  will  be  said  regarding  this  later,  it  may 
be  interesting  to  note  here  that  for  some  time  I 
worked  away  at  odd  moments  at  the  idea  conceived 
then  and  finally  had  the  satisfaction  of  having  it 
approved  by  the  Inventions  Committee  of  the 
British  army.  This,  by  the  way,  was  all  the  satis- 
faction I  did  have,  for  by  reason  of  various  annoying 
incidents  I  never  saw  the  device  in  operation,  though 
I  believe  it  has  been  used  to  some  extent  on  the 
western  front. 

Stealing  back  to  our  billets  that  night,  when  it 
became  dark  enough  to  move  with  safety,  we  found 
an  N.  C  .0.  looking  for  us  but  managed  to  "square" 
him  by  promising  him  our  rum  ration  next  morning. 


CHAPTER  II 

Into  the  Thick  of  Things 

The  next  morning  I  was  one  of  eight  men  told  off 
to  guard  an  ammunition  dump  in  the  basement  of  an 
old  house  half  a  mile  to  the  rear.  Everything  went 
nicely  till,  along  about  noon,  we  were  sitting  around  a 
table  playing  poker  when  suddenly  we  heard  a  long, 
moaning  scream.  This  was  followed  immediately 
by  a  crash,  and  a  shower  of  tiles  came  tumbling  on 
our  heads.  A  big  shell  passed  clean  through  the 
roof  and  exploded  in  the  backyard,  killing  a  poor  old 
Belgian  who  was  working  there.  Somewhat  excited, 
we  all  scrambled  out  into  an  old  fire  trench  beside 
the  house,  where  we  would  certainly  have  been 
blown  to  pieces  if  the  dump  had  been  hit.  But 
after  dropping  a  few  more  on  the  road  in  front  of  us 
Fritz  apparently  thought  better  of  it  and  quit. 
After  gathering  up  what  was  left  of  the  old  Belgian 
we  went  back  to  our  game. 

We  had  our  first  actual  experience  under  fire  next 
day.  Our  O.  C.  ordered  us  out  for  a  bath  and  the 
whole  regiment  marched  in  broad  daylight  over  the 
open  roads  to  the  bath  houses  at  Armentieres,  where, 
in  an  old  brewery,  the  huge  beer  vats  and  tubs  were 
made  good  use  of  as  bathing  pools.  The  day  was 
sunny  and  bright  and  a  big  German  sausage  balloon 
could  be  seen  hanging  over  their  lines,  seeming,  in 
the  thin  air,  to  be  very  close.  Nothing  happened  | 
on  the  way  over  but  they  seemed  to  get  a  line  on  us 

23 


24  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

coming  back  for  three  or  four  batteries  opened  up 
and  for  a  few  minutes  all  was  confusion  in  our  ranks 
while  the  air  was  full  of  shrapnel,  flying  mud,  bricks, 
and  cobblestones.  Like  a  flash  everyone  dived 
for  the  ditches  on  either  side  of  the  road,  and  by  the 
best  of  luck  not  a  single  casualty  resulted. 

We  crawled  along  the  ditch  till  some  trees  afforded 
cover  when  we  formed  up  on  the  road  again  and 
marched  back  to  our  billets  without  further  incident. 

We  v/ere  rather  amused  to  note  a  day  or  two 
afterwurd  that  the  German  report  for  the  day,  copied 
in  the  Enghsh  papers,  said:  **0n  Saturday  our 
artillery  successfully  engaged  a  column  of  troops 
moving  on  the  Armentieres  road,  resulting  in  their 
total  destruction." 

Down  in  the  bottom  of  our  hearts  we  had  wondered 
how  we  would  behave  the  first  time  under  fire — 
what  it  would  be  Hke.  Now  the  experience  was 
past.  My  first  feeling  was  one  of  hot  anger.  When 
those  coal  boxes  began  to  come  over,  tearing  up  the 
road  and  showering  us  with  debris,  I  felt  almost  un- 
controllably mad  and  helpless.  But  when  we  had 
crawled  along  for  half  a  mile  to  cover — dropping 
on  our  faces  when  the  moaning  of  a  shell  gave  us 
warning  of  its  approach — and  when  we  finally  lined 
up  on  the  road  again  without  the  loss  of  a  single 
man,  we  were  all  ready  to  laugh  and  joke  at  Fritz's 
artillery. 

For  a  few  days  after  that,  while  some  of  our  officers 
and  N.  C.  O's.  went  up  to  the  trenches  to  look  them 
over  and  get  a  line  on  how  things  were  done  up  there, 
we  lay  around  our  billets  and  tried  to  scrape  up  ac- 
quaintance with  the  Belgian  civilians.  While  these 
people  v/ere  very  ready  to  sell  us  anything  they  could 
supply — such  as  beer,  coffee,  eggs,  and  chips,  and 
bread  and  butter — and  while  they  were  all  making 


/ 

INTO  THE  THICK  OF  THINGS  25] 

a  good  deal  of  money  out  of  the  soldiers,  they  were 
not  only  unfriendly  but  also,  in  many  cases,  openly 
hostile  and  seemed  to  do  everything  they  could  to 
make  us  uncomfortable.  Rumours  were  continually 
being  circulated  as  to  the  prevalence  of  both  Belgian 
and  German  spies  and  occasionally  we  heard  stories 
of  executions  of  spies  who  had  been  caught  in  the  act. 
Naturally,  with  this  sort  of  thing  going  on  around  us, 
our  feelings  toward  the  Belgians  themselves  were  not 
particularly  friendly. 

During  our  stay  near  Ploegsteert  our  billets  were 
shelled  a  couple  of  times,  but  as  we  had  no  casualties, 
this  did  not  appear  specially  notable. 

One  afternoon  we  fell  in  again,  in  heavy  marching 
order,  to  go — as  usual — no  one  knew  where;  another 
instance  that  our  O.  C.  would  not  trust  us  with  news 
as  to  our  whereabouts  and  which,  naturally,  did  not 
tend  to  add  to  his  popularity.  Again,  too,  the 
ignorance  which  was  first  evidenced  in  overcaution 
soon  changed  into  overboldness. 

That  evening,  we  were  marched  out  from  our  bil- 
lets in  broad  dayhght,  while  we  could  see  several 
German  sausages  hanging  over  their  lines.  That 
time,  however,  we  were  not  shelled  and,  after  march- 
ing some  miles,  were  drawn  up  in  a  square  alongside 
a  large  camp  consisting  of  row  upon  row  of  long,  low 
huts,  carefully  camouflaged  with  a  view  to  conceal- 
ment from  aviators.  While  standing  there  we 
looked  at  them  curiously,  speculating  on  the  amount 
of  comfort  they  would  afford.  That  curiosity  was 
destined  to  be  well  satisfied  for  we  spent  many, 
many  nights  during  the  following  year,  stretched  on 
their  cold,  hard  floors. 

Piling  our  rifles  and  throwing  off"  our  kits  we  had 
supper  on  the  parade  ground  where  we  were  later 
joined  by  two  other  Mounted  Brigades  (both  on  foot) 


26  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

namely  (a)  the  Second  C.  M.  R.  Brigade,  consisting 
of  the  4th,  5th,  and  6th  Canadian  Mounted  Rifles, 
and  three  East  Canadian  regiments,  and  (b)  the 
Canadian  Cavalry  Brigade,  made  up  of  Lord  Strath- 
cona's  horse,  the  Royal  Canadian  Dragoons,  and  a 
Colonial  regiment  enlisted  in  England  and  known  as 
King  Edward's  Horse. 

Under  cover  of  darkness  we  moved  off  again,  the 
nine  regiments  with  their  machine-gun  sections  and 
transport  covering  more  than  a  mile  of  road.  The 
darkness  was  intensified  by  the  quivering  and  inter- 
mittent light  from  the  star  shells.  We  plodded  on 
steadily  hour  after  hour  with  scarcely  a  halt  till 
nearly  morning  when  it  became  evident  that  some- 
thing had  gone  wrong  up  in  front  since  we  were  con- 
tinually halted  and  almost  instantly  moved  on  again. 
Just  as  day  broke  we  were  drawn  up  in  a  small  wood 
at  the  foot  of  a  hill — the  Kemmel  Hill,  by  the  way, 
made  famous  in  the  German  pushes  this  spring — and 
after  standing  an  hour  in  a  drizzling  rain  were 
ordered  to  throw  off  our  packs  and  stay  there.  The 
three  brigades  were  drawn  up  in  the  wood  with  their 
transport  in  a  hollow  close  by.  We  soon  learned 
that  our  guides  had  gone  astray  and  had  come  within 
an  ace  of  leading  us  into  a  death  trap.  We  were  then 
barely  a  thousand  yards  from  the  enemy's  trenches. 

Despite  the  order  to  stay  where  we  were,  I  sneaked 
off  with  a  couple  of  others  anxious  to  see  a  little  more 
of  the  fuss — down  to  a  small  village  about  a  quarter 
of  a  mile  nearer  the  front  trenches.  The  houses  here 
had  been  mostly  battered  down,  but  some  of  the  peo- 
ple were  still  staying  there  selling  coffee  and  other 
suppHes  to  the  soldiers.  Here  and  there  small  sign- 
posts were  posted  with  a  warning  in  French  and 
English  to  the  effect  that  that  point  was  within  view 
of  the  enemy. 


INTO  THE  THICK  OF  THINGS  27 

Bc^ck  in  the  wood  the  officers  tried  in  every  way 
possible  to  keep  the  men  quiet  and  under  cover — no 
small  job,  considering  the  limited  size  of  the  cover 
and  the  number  of  soldiers  crowded  into  it. 

Early  in  the  afternoon  the  inevitable  happened. 
A  large  German  plane  appeared  overhead  and  circled 
about  like  a  huge  bird  while  the  Archies  peppered 
away  at  it  and  we  were  showered  with  falling  shrap- 
nel. Evidently  we  had  been  discovered  and  we  were 
ordered  to  get  into  our  equipment  and  to  get  out  of 
camp  as  quickly  as  possible.  In  a  very  few  minutes 
we  were  on  the  road  and  regiment  after  regiment 
marched  up  over  the  hill  in  plain  sight  of  the  Germa7i 
trenches. 

Why  Fritz  did  not  fire  on  such  a  visible  target  is  in- 
comprehensible, but  he  seemed  to  be  determined 
to  clean  up  the  wood  first  and  opened  up  a  terrific 
bombardment,  commencing  on  the  side  nearest  the 
trenches  and  systematically  reducing  every  dug-out, 
every  vestige  of  shelter,  and  half  the  trees  to  a  mass 
of  tangled  rags,  mud,  and  splinters.  _ 

With  the  best  of  luck,  considering  the  circum- 
stances, the  last  regiment  to  leave  was  the  only  one 
that  suffered  any  casualties.  They  had  to  pull  out 
in  a  hurry  without  even  taking  time  to  get  their 
packs.     Again  we  had  the  laugh  on  Fritz's  artillery. 

Continuing  our  march  we  came  about  midnight  to 
a  dug-out  camp  where  several  Old  Country  regiments 
were  dra\vn  up  on  their  way  out  of  the  trenches. 
The  night  was  as  black  as  death,  it  was  raining  as 
usual,  and  it  is  not  to  be  wondered  at  that  in  the  dark- 
ness and  mud  we  got  into  the  most  hopeless  mix-up. 
Our  brigade  became  jammed  in  the  road  between  a 
battalion  of  the  Duke  of  Wellington's  Light  In- 
fantry and  a  transport  column.  The  others  over- 
took us  and  ranged  alongside  till  the  road  was  packed 


28  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

solid.  When  the  head  of  the  column  was  finally 
released  the  regiments  were  so  hopelessly  confused, 
and  the  men  and  officers  so  muddled  up,  that  no  one 
knew  where  he  belonged. 

I  struggled  for  a  while  to  get  out  of  the  mess  and 
was  soon  moving  along  again  in  an  endless  line  of 
plodding  figures  wiien  a  voice  in  front  of  me  said  in 
the  broadest  accent:  "Gor  blimey,  Bill,  I  wish  the 
bleedin'  kaiser  had  this  bally  pack."  My  suspicions 
as  to  my  whereabouts  were  naturally  aroused  and 
when  I  asked:  "What  regiment  is  this?"  the  same 
voice  answered  out  of  the  darkness:  "Don't  yer 
know?  This  'ere's  the  Dook  er  Wellington's  bleedin' 
Infantry." 

So  I  had  to  "About  turn"  and  try  to  locate  my  own 
regiment.  In  doing  so  it  seemed  that  I  met  repre- 
sentatives of  every  regiment  in  the  British  army  and 
was  "cussed"  in  every  tongue  and  dialect  for  butting 
into  their  ranks. 

Finally  we  were  sorted  out  and  on  the  way  again. 
Straggling  along  over  a  low,  wet  field,  we  came  into  a 
long,  crooked,  and  badly  battered  communication 
trench.  Here  we  got  tangled  up  again,  losing  touch 
with  the  leading  half  of  our  company  through  no 
fault  of  our  own  but  because  a  lieutenant  of  another 
company,  lost  and  rather  badly  excited,  insisted  on 
breaking  our  ranks  and  leading  his  platoon  through. 
We  had  orders  not  to  lose  touch  with  the  men  in 
front — orders  that  we  tried  to  carry  out — but  none 
of  our  officers  was  there  to  insist  on  right  of  way  and 
so  we  had  to  prowl  around  in  a  bush  behind  the  front 
line  for  an  hour  or  two.  Finally  we  decided  to 
"flop"  for  the  night  and  lay  down  w^here  we  were, 
some  stretching  out  on  the  wet  ground  in  front  of  the 
trench,  others  sleeping  on  the  parapet  as  the  most 
comfortable  spot. 


INTO  THE  THICK  OF  THINGS  29 

I  was  wakened  early  in  the  morning  by  someone 
cautiously  pulling  at  my  foot.  Sitting  up,  cold 
and  drowsy,  I  rubbed  my  eyes  and  looked  at  Bee 
Kay. 

"Get  those  fellows  in  out  of  there,"  he  told  me. 
"We  are  in  plain  sight  of  the  German  trenches." 

Naturally  that  dispelled  the  drowsiness.  Looking 
round  I  could  see,  only  about  two  hundred  yards 
away,  a  long,  crooked  ridge,  looking  like  a  furrow 
turned  by  some  gigantic  plough — our  front  line. 
The  communication  trench  where  we  had  been  lying 
wriggled  round  the  edge  of  the  wood  like  a  snake  and 
zigzagged  across  a  low  field  to  our  front  line,  a  little 
to  the  right.  Daylight  was  just  breaking  and  with 
it  a  thin  fog  was  beginning  to  lift.  Over  our  Hne 
and  on  slightly  higher  ground  another  long  brown 
furrow — the  German  front-line  trench — was  be- 
coming visible. 

I  lost  no  time  in  waking  the  boys  and,  shivering 
and  grumbling,  they  crawled  back  into  the  trench. 
Here  we  shortly  located  a  dug-out  which  a  bunch  of  us 
appropriated  and  which  we  were  to  occupy  for  some 
time  to  come. 

One  might  go  into  descriptions  of  trench  life,  of 
its  dangers,  its  hardships,  its  humours,  and  its  pathetic 
features;  but  this,  like  other  matter,  has  been  told  a 
thousand  times.  And  since  my  aim  is  to  present 
experiences  out  of  the  ordinary  I  shall  pass  on. 

One  incident  which  developed  in  this  dug-out  is 
highly  interesting— to  me,  at  least.  It  will  be  re- 
membered how  the  idea  for  a  safety  loophole  had 
come  to  me  back  at  Ploegsteert.  I  got  time  now  to 
do  some  work  on  it,  carving  out  a  small  model  with  a 
service  knife.     I  had  already  talked  over  the  idea 

with   Sergeant   D ,    and    he  had   seemed   to   be 

greatly  taken  with  it.     Now  that  he  shared  the  same 


so  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

dug-out  he  seemed  again  to  be  very  much  interested, 
and  asked  me  a  good  many  questions  about  it. 
This  by  way  of  explanation  for  what  is  to  follow. 

For  the  next  few  months  our  regiment  was  utilized 
as  a  sort  of  flying  column,  relieving  battalions  here 
and  there  on  the  line  where  conditions  were  very 
quiet  at  the  time,  and  doing  a  good  deal  of  work  in 
trenches  and  on  narrow-gauge  railways  behind  the 
line.  We  suffered  few  casualties  but — for  a  really 
good  reason,  when  one  understands  the  situation — 
gained  considerable  reputation  for  our  tendency  to 
"pinch"  anything  that  was  transportable.  While 
all  the  other  troops  had  their  regular  billets  when 
out  of  the  trenches  and  held  the  same  trenches  each 
time  they  were  sent  in,  the  C.  M.  R.  were  nobody's 
soldiers  and  were  shifted  from  place  to  place,  fre- 
quently and  irregularly.  Inasmuch  as  we  had  to 
build  fresh  shelters  at  practically  every  new  place, 
and  as  supplies  were  meagre,  we  simply  had  to  ap- 
propriate sandbags,  oil  drums,  trench  mats,  and 
other  necessary  things  too  numerous  to  mention. 
At  that  time  troops  were  being  warned  of  the  ap- 
proach of  hostile  aircraft  by  the  blasts  of  a  whittle, 
two  blasts  meaning:  "Get  under."  This  became 
somewhat  perverted,  on  that  section  of  the  hne  at 
least,  for  after  a  while  we  found  out  that  three  blasts 
meant:  "Get  your  goods  under  cover,  the  C.  M.  R.'s 
approaching." 

Never  shall  I  forget  the  misery  of  that  winter  in 
France — the  long,  weary  marches  through  the  mud 
and  rain,  over  the  slippery  cobblestones  and  through 
side  trails  where  we  sank  to  our  knees  in  the  slimy, 
stinking  mud;  sleeping  in  the  outbuildings  of  the 
French  and  Belgian  farmers,  without  fire  and  often 
rendered  specially  uncomfortable  by  the  farmers 
themselves.      It  was  hard  to  realize  sometimes  that 


INTO  THE  THICK  OF  THINGS  31 

we  were  putting  up  with  all  this  for  an  ideal  and  that 
we  were  fighting  largely  for  the  benefit  of  these  peo- 
ple who  only  used  us  as  a  convenience  in  making 
money  through  the  sale  of  their  produce,  though  the 
French  people  generally  treated  us  well. 

November  was  spent  in  tents  and  dug-outs  at 
Dranoute  and  while  here  I  finally  finished  my  inven- 
tion. I  had  carried  it  with  me  all  through  the  miser- 
able fall,,  working  every  minute  I  could  snatch  on  it, 
and  in  no  way  trying  to  conceal  it. 

One  day,  when  it  was  almost  complete,  I  was  sitting 
in  my  tent  working  at  it  when  a  shadow  fell  across  the 
flap  and  Captain  Bob  Richardson  looked  in.  "Cap- 
tain Bob,"  as  he  was  familiarly  known,  was  second 
in  command  of  my  company — later  becoming  O.  C. 
— and  was  greatly  liked  by  all  the  boys.  When  he 
came  in  and  sat  down  I  quickly  put  the  model  away 
but  he  was  anxious  to  see  what  I  was  doing  and  was 
so  pleased  with  the  idea  that  he  insisted  on  my 
finishing  it  that  night  and  showing  it  to  Major 
Ross,  who  at  that  time  was  company  O.  C.  When 
Major  Ross  saw  the  device  he  called  a  meeting  of 
his  officers  to  whom  the  whole  thing  was  explained. 
They  all  professed  to  be  highly  pleased  with  it,  some 
of  them  praising  it  in  very  complimentary  terms. 
Major  Ross  explained  that  since  I  was  a  soldier  and 
under  the  direction  of  the  Government  it  would  be  out 
of  the  question  for  me  to  provide  for  any  proprietary 
rights  in  the  matter  but  that  I  could  put  it  before  the 
proper  authorities  and  take  a  chance  as  to  what  re- 
ward might  be  forthcoming.  I  followed  this  sug- 
gestion and  the  device  was  approved  by  the  Bat- 
talion, Brigade,  and  Divisional  commanders  in  turn 
and  I  was  sent  to  General  Armstrong,  C.  O.  of  the 
Canadian  Engineers,  to  direct  the  making  of  a  full- 
sized   model.     For   this    I    left   the   battalion   for  a 


32  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

month  and  was  billeted  at  Bailleul,  about  seven  miles 
back  from  the  front. 

I  was  naturally  somewhat  chagrined  to  hear  a 
story  from  one  of  the  boys  just   before  I  left  for 

Bailleul.     He  said  he  had  gone  to  Sergt.   D 's 

dug-out  for  some  sand-bags  and  had  surprised  him 
working  on  a  device  which  looked  exactly  like  mine. 

When  he  questioned  D as  to  where  he  had  got 

*'MacDonald's  invention"  the  sergeant  had  put  the 
affair  quickly  out  of  sight  and  had  answered  con- 
fusedly: "Oh,  this  is  something  I  have  invented  my- 
self."    Whether  D ever  was  able  to  make  any 

use  of  the  device  is  a  query.  I  have  heard  rumours 
since  that  he  subsequently  joined  the  Tank  Corps, 
and  that  a  special  covered  loophole  sim.ilar  to  mine 
is  being  used  on  these  huge  crawlers,  but  this  is 
something  I  cannot  verify.  At  any  rate,  I  had  a  good 
deal  of  satisfaction  when  I  heard  a  little  later  on  that 

D had  had  the  effrontery  to  bring  his  version  of 

my  invention  to  Major  Ross  who  at  once  detected 
the  thievery  and  gave  him  such  a  tongue-lashing  as 
few  men  ever  got,  warning  him  that  if  he  tried  to  do 
anything  Vv'^ith  it  he  would  make  trouble  for  him. 

I  had  an  easy  time  in  Bailleul  where  I  was  able 
really  to  work  at  my  invention,  and  eventually  had 
the  opportunity  to  show  it  to  General  Armstrong 
and  several  other  officers;  but  when  nothing  definite 
seemed  to  be  developing  and  since  my  work  was  fin- 
ished, I  asked  for  permission  to  go  back  to  my  regi- 
ment. Just  then,  however,  they  were  coming 
from  a  tour  in  the  trenches  for  a  rest  and  I  was  able 
to  rejoin  them  right  in  Bailleul  as  they  marched 
through  to  billets. 

I  don't  think  I  ever  saw  a  regiment  so  exhausted  or 
so  hopelessly  muddy  and  battered  as  they  were. 
They  had  been,  as  I  soon  found  out,  in  the  line  in 


INTO  THE  THICK  OF  THINGS  33 

front  of  Messines  where  the  trenches  were  exceed- 
ingly low  and  wet,  following  around  the  foot  of  a 
hill  on  which  the  Germans  had  their  front  hne. 
Added  to  this  was  the  fact  that  the  River  Douve, 
which  ran  along  behind  our  trench  for  a  short  dis- 
tance, crossed  and  flowed  down  into  the  German 
lines  where  they  eased  off  from  the  hill.  The  wily 
Germans  had  dammed  the  stream  where  it  crossed 
their  lines,  thus  backing  the  water  up  into  our 
trenches  until  our  boys  had  been  standing  for  three 
or  four  days  at  a  time  in  water  up  to  their  waists. 
During  this  time  the  German  artillery  dropped  a 
plentiful  supply  of  shells  along  the  line,  adding 
showers  of  clammy,  freezing  mud  and  icy  water  to 
the  other  discomforts.  Just  at  this  time,  too,  the 
3d  C.  M,  R.'s  were  badly  mauled  in  the  trench 
not  far  from  our  fellows,  one  company  especially 
suffering  terribly  from  shell  fire.  Shortly  afterward 
our  Brigadier  was  relieved  of  his  command  and  re- 
turned to  Canada.  Apparently  "someone  had 
blundered." 

The  discomfort  did  not  end  with  the  boys'  relief 
from  the  trenches,  since  for  nearly  two  months  after 
that  we  were  quartered  in  old  barns  betvv^een  Bailleul 
and  Meteren.  Cold  and  wet  were  predominant 
here  because,  for  fear  of  firing  the  barns,  fires  were 
forbidden,  and  many  a  time,  after  a  hard  day's  drill 
or  a  route  march  in  the  cold  rain,  we  had  to  turn  into 
our  blankets  as  we  were.  But  it  was  active  service 
and  we  tried  to  make  the  best  of  it.  Of  course  there 
was  grumbling.  That's  a  soldier's  privilege  in 
such  conditions.  But  I  do  say  that  our  boys  were 
mightily  considerate  and  it  was  only  when  some 
unnecessary  hardship  was  loaded  on  us  by  reason 
of  carelessness  or  incompetence  that  any  general 
grumbling  was  heard. 


34".  THE  Ky\ISER'S  GUEST 

Here,  too,  we  had  to  learn  a  new  system  of  drill. 
We  had  been  trained,  of  course,  as  cavalry  and  had 
gone  through  all  our  work  under  the  cavalry  system 
and  with  the  regular  orders  we  had  learned  back  in 
Canada.  Now  they  went  at  it  wholesale  to  make 
infantry  out  of  us  and  we  had  to  try  to  forget  all  we 
had  learned  before  and  become  famihar  with  a  new 
system  and  entirely  new  commands.  Why,  scarcely 
any  of  our  fellows  knew  how  to  "form  fours"  prop- 
erly, by  the  infantry  method,  and  a  great  many  of 
us  never  learned.  While  a  cavalry  regiment  is  made 
up  of  about  six  hundred  men — of  which  a  large  num- 
ber are  taken  up  by  transport  and  details — ours  was 
always  below  ** strength,"  but  we  had  taken  the  place 
in  the  firing  line  of  infantry  battalions  of  approxi- 
mately one  thousand  men,  and  our  trenches  were 
sometimes  pretty  slimly  held. 

This  was  now  remedied  to  some  extent;  the  3d 
C.  M.  R.  were  split  up  between  the  1st  and  2d,  and 
the  6th  between  the  4th  and  5th,  the  two  former 
C.  M.  R.  Brigades  were  then  formed  into  the  8th 
Infantry  Brigade,  but  until  I  was  wounded  and 
taken  prisoner  the  following  June,  we  had  never 
been  brought  up  to  full  strength.  With  the  new  or- 
der, our  last  hope  of  being  withdrawn  from  the 
trenches  for  mounted  service  in  Egypt — for  which  I 
believe  we  were  originally  intended— vanished,  but 
we  were  not  sorry  as  it  had  been  evident  for  some 
time  that  if  we  went  to  Berlin,  we  would  walk. 

Just  about  this  time  our  first  O.  C.  returned  to 
England,  and  Lieut.-Colonel  A.  E.  Shaw— one  of 
the  finest  soldiers  that  ever  went  to  France — took 
charge  of  us.  We  were  right  sorry  to  see  Major 
Ross  invaUded  to  England  at  the  same  time,  but  his 
place  was  well  filled  by  "Captain  Bob." 

The  hand  of  Colonel  Shaw  soon  began  to  be  felt 


INTO  THE  THICK  OF  THINGS  3^] 

in  the  regiment.  Discipline,  always  good  in  the 
I  St,  was  tightened  up  a  little  more.  After  five 
months  at  the  front,  we  didn't  take  very  kindly  to 
infantry  drill,  its  introduction  caused  no  little  dis- 
satisfaction, and  about  half  of  the  regiment  reported 
sick  every  morning  to  avoid  it.  But  when  our  new 
O,  C.  ordered  the  sick  parade  for  six  o'clock  in  the 
morning,  and  we  had  to  pile  out  of  the  cold,  fireless 
barns  and  stand  in  a  long,  shivering  row  awaiting  the 
doctor  with  a  hundred-to-one  chance  of  getting  a  No. 
10  and  duty,  the  sick  parade  soon  resumed  normal 
dimensions.  And  by  reason  of  his  constant  exercise 
of  justice  and  consideration.  Colonel  Shaw  soon  won 
the  confidence  and  respect  of  his  men. 

An  instance  or  two  will  be  illuminating. 

On  one  route  march  we  were  caught  a  long  distance 
from  our  billets  in  a  cold,  heavy  rain.  The  Colonel 
was  the  only  man  in  the  battalion  who  had  a  rain 
coat.  Surprisingly,  he  refused  to  put  it  on  and  rode 
at  the  head  of  his  men  with  the  coat  rolled  on  his 
saddle.  On  arriving  at  billets  he  went  directly  to 
the  Quartermaster  and  ordered  an  issue  of  rum  for 
the  whole  parade.  For  some  reason  there  was  no 
rum  in  the  stores  and  without  waiting  to  change  his 
wet  clothes  the  Colonel  rode  into  Bailleul,  and,  dis- 
appointed there,  commandeered  a  car  and  went  on 
to  Hazebrouck,  thirty  miles,  and  on  his  return  went 
from  billet  to  billet,  giving  every  soldier  a  drink  of 
rum  to  warm  him  up. 

One  story  from  our  last  trip  in  the  trenches  that 
year,  in  December,  will  illustrate  some  of  the  condi- 
tions of  trench  hfe  not  usually  spoken  of.     One  of  the 

misfits  in  our  company  was  Corporal  P ,  a  big 

ungainly  chap  who  used  his  pull  to  get  a  corporal's 
stripes  but  who,  as  an  N.  C.  O.,  proved  himself  such 
a  sneaking  fellow  that  no  officer  would  recommend 


36  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

him  for  further  promotion;  and,  though  several  of 
them  would  have  been  glad  to  reduce  him,  he  was 
too  clever  to  give  them  the  chance.  He  was  always 
looking  for  trouble  and,  being  so  overbearing  and  in- 
solent to  the  men,  usually  found  a  good  deal  of  it. 
By  being  a  stickler  for  punctuality  and  discipHne, 
however,  he  tried  to  make  himself  solid  with  the 
officers.  When  we  arrived  at  the  front  the  real  stuff 
in  him  became  evident  for  while  not  actually  a  cow- 
ard he  evidently  considered  discretion  the  better  part 
of  valour  and  passed  on  to  any  one  he  could  such 
*' dirty  work"  as  came  his  way._ 

Another  corporal,  D ,  a  little  dark  chap,  was 

of  an  entirely  different  type.  Though  a  splendid 
little  fellow,  he  had  neither  taste  nor  liking  for  mili- 
tary authority  and  lacked  the  resolution  to  back  up 
the  few  orders  he  did  give.  In  consequence  he  was  a 
good  deal  taken  advantage  of  and  it  was  only  by  rea- 
son of  the  liking  and  respect  the  boys  had  for  him 
that  he  was  able  to  control  them  at  all. 

On  arriving  in  the  trenches  this  trip  P was 

warned  for  Listening  Post,  which,  as  most  people 
know,  means  Wing  out  in  No  Man's  Land,  sometimes 
right  up  against  the  German  wire,     listenmg     and 

watching  for  any  enemy  movement.     P ,  char- 

acteristically,  went  to  D ,  passing  the  duty  on  to     ^ 

him  and  the  latter — either  taking  the  order  as  O.  K. 
or  to  avoid  trouble — immediately  picked  his  men 
and  relieved  the  post  of  the  regiment  withdrawing. 

However  he  managed   it.   Corporal   P worked 

things  so  that  D was  kept  on  duty  out  there  at 

Listening  Post  all  the  time  we  were  in  the  trenches. 
This  was  not  only  contrary  to  orders  but  was  ex- 
ceedingly hard  on  D ,  since  the  steady  tension  of 

watching  and  the  dangerous  nature  of  his  work  were 
made  a  great  deal  harder  by  the  fact  that  the  trenches 


INTO  THE  THICK  OF  THINGS  37 

we  held  were  flooded.  D soon  became  ex- 
hausted and  the  night  before  the  regiment  was  re- 
Heved  while  he  was  half  asleep  and  trying  to  clean 
his  rifle,  it  was  accidently  discharged,  killing  one  of 
his  men  and  crippling  another. 

Corporal  P then  had  to  take  over  his  post 

and  was  shot  on  his  first  trip  out  to  change  his  sen- 
tries. But,  with  better  luck  than  he  deserved,  he 
received  a  nice  "cushy  Blighty"  and  was  later  in- 
valided home  to  Canada. 

D himself  was  heart-broken  and  never  recov- 
ered from  the  shock  of  the  incident.  He  was  ar- 
rested and  was  away  from  the  regiment  for  a  time  but 
was  afterward  brought  back  and  remained  with  us 
till  his  trial.  At  the  trial  he  was  defended  by  "Cap- 
tain Bob,"  who,  with  the  best  intention — though,  it 
seems  to  me,  foolishly — persuaded  him  to  plead 
guilty  to  a  charge  of  "KilHng  one  man  and  seriously 
wounding  another  through  carelessly  discharging 
his  rifle."  By  this  time  D knew  of  P^ 's  in- 
terference with  the  orders  but  he  said  nothing  what- 
ever of  this  and  was  sentenced  to  two  years  with 
hard  labour,  to  be  served  after  the  war.  This  meant 
that  he  must  keep  on  fighting,  with  two  years'  penal 
servitude  hanging  over  his  head.  This  and  the  shock 
of  the  accident  broke  his  heart.  He  moved  about 
among  the  boys  like  a  ghost,  silent  and  brooding,  and 
while  the  whole  battalion  sympathized  with  him  and 
tried  in  every  way  possible  to  cheer  him  up  it  was  of 
no  use.  We  knew  that  he  went  into  the  trenches 
each  time  praying  that  he  might  not  come  out,  but 
too  conscientious  to  throw  his  life  away. 

When  we  got  settled  in  our  billets  after  this  tour  in 
the  trenches  and  the  reorganization  of  our  regiment 
fairly  well  under  way,  the  boys  all  began  to  talk  of 
Christmas  and  to  plan  for  a  little  celebration.     We 


38  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

collected  five  francs  (about  a  dollar)  each  from  the 
men  and,  with  a  little  financial  aid  from  the  officers, 
prepared  for  a  real  old-time  Christmas  feast  to  in- 
clude turkey,  plum  pudding,  a  variety  of  fruit  and 
cake  and,  last  but  not  least,  a  few  bottles  of  cham^ 
pagne. 

So  on  Christmas  morning  we  woke — in  the  cold, 
dismal  barn  where  we  were  quartered — with  rosy 
visions  of  a  real  home-like  feast  for  once.  Mine 
were  suddenly  and  sadly  shattered  by  a  khaki-clad 
runner  from  Divisional  Headquarters  who  arrived 
just  at  breakfast  time  to  warn  me  to  report  at  Head- 
quarters at  once  and  to  proceed  in  a  government  car 
to  Hazebrouck  with  the  models  of  m}^  invention  so 
that  an  explanation  of  them  might  be  made  to  the 
Inventions  Committee.  I  hurried  over,  found  the 
car  and  a  tall  French  captain  who  was  to  drive  me 
down.  How  that  big  gray  car  did  fly  over  the  roads 
which  were  exceedingly  good  after  leaving  the  im- 
mediate front. 

Arriving  in  Hazebrouck  the  officer  left  me,  sug- 
gesting that  I  meet  him  again  at  eleven  o'clock  for 
the  run  back  to  Bailleul.  Just  then  my  chances  of 
getting  a  share  of  that  Christmas  dinner  looked 
mighty  blue. 

After  some  little  trouble  I  found  the  Inventions 
Committee's  Offices  and  reported.  The  sergeant 
in  charge,  who  was  the  only  person  there,  was  rather 
put  out  that  I  should  have  been  sent  down  on  the 
holiday.  However,  he  went  to  see  the  officers  and  to 
my  satisfaction  six  of  them  returned  with  him.  I 
went  over  my  device  as  carefully  as  possible  and  was 
gratified  at  the  reception  they  gave  me  since  they  all 
appeared  to  be  greatly  interested.  A  hint  was  given 
that  something  similar  had  already  been  shown  them 
but   they   promised   definitely  that  they  would   go 


INTO  THE  THICK  OF  THINGS  39 

further  into  the  matter  and  that  I  should  hear  from 
them  later.  I  did.  Some  considerable  time  later  a 
letter  came  from  the  Committee  informing  me  that 
they  had  been  in  possession  of  exactly  the  same  thing 
for  months  and  that  they  didn't  think  it  was  of  much 
use  anyway;  or  words  to  that  effect.  However  that 
may  have  been  they  declined  to  return  the  drawings 
of  the  device  and  for  a  time  I  gave  up  the  hope  of 
gaining  recognition  for  my  invention. 

Other  more  material  hopes  were  much  better 
realized,  though.  Hurrying  over  to  meet  the 
French  captain  as  he  had  suggested,  so  soon  as  the 
Committee  got  through  with  me,  I  found  the  car 
waiting  and  before  long  I  was  in  Bailleul  again,  ar- 
riving just  as  the  dinner  was  under  way. 

Get  a  picture  of  that  Christmas  feast  if  you  can. 
The  boys  sat  in  two  long  rows  in  the  straw  with 
blankets  stretched  between  for  a  table  and  cloth 
combined.  The  officers  of  our  company  occupied 
the  end  seats  and  "Captain  Bob"  was  master  of 
ceremonies.  When  we  came  to  the  wine  course 
he  stood  up  and  delivered  a  long,  disjointed  speech, 
mostly  in  praise  of  his  battalion  and  company  and 
finishing  by  proposing  a  toast  to  '*The  boys  who  were 
with  us  last  Christmas  but  are  gone  to-day,"  which, 
naturally,  was  very  quietly  and  earnestly  responded 
to.  Then  each  platoon  officer  was  called  on  for  a 
speech  and  he  in  turn  was  followed  by  a  private  in  his 
platoon.  Almost  invariably  the  officers  followed 
''Captain  Bob's"  example  and  said  something  in 
praise  of  their  own  men.  The  privates  in  their  turn 
praised  their  officers,  though  in  one  or  two  cases  it 
was  quite  evident  the  man  was  not  very  enthusiastic 
over  the  sentiments  he  expressed. 

When  our  platoon's  turn  came  Bee  Kay  rose  to 
the  occasion  like  a  hero,   stood   for  a  minute   red 


40  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

and  embarrassed,  unable  to  get  his  thoughts  to- 
gether. Then,  with  a  mighty  effort,  he  finally  got 
under  way  and  spouted  out  a  lot  of  almost  wholly  un- 
intelHgible  jargon  about  his  platoon.  To  my  dismay 
I  was  called  on  to  respond  and  by  no  manner  of 
means  could  I  squeeze  out  of  it.  I  did  not  feel  Uke 
praising  him  for  while  I  respected  his  courage  I  re- 
membered dangerous  expeditions  in  No  Man's  Land 
when  his  carelessness  or  stupidity  had  nearly  cost  us 
our  lives.  Very  unwillingly  I  got  to  my  feet,  almost 
as  badly  embarrassed  as  Bee  Kay  himself  had  been, 
and  when  the  between-speeches  fuss  died  down  I 
said:  "Now,  all  the  boys  have  been  cracking  up  their 
-officers.  What's  the  matter  with  Bee  Kay.'"'  In 
the  uproar  which  followed  I  was  able  to  make  my 
escape. 


CHAPTER  III 
Trench  Life  Day  by  Day 

Shortly  after  Christmas  we  were  ordered  up  the 
line  again  to  take  up  the  trenches  of  the  2d  Infantry 
Brigade.  Here,  although  we  were  only  about  two 
hundred  yards  from  the  Germans,  we  had  a  quiet 
and  uneventful  trip.  Colonel  Shaw  arranged  his 
force  so  that  no  man  spent  more  than  twelve  hours 
at  a  stretch  in  the  front  line,  this  being  possible 
through  the  placing  of  supports  in  a  hollow  close  to 
the  line  and  permitting  a  change  night  and  morning. 
The  changes  of  troops  had  to  be  made  over  an  open 
road  running  straight  into  Messines,  the  town  being 
located  on  a  hill  directly  in  front  of  us.  The  German 
front  line  wound  along  close  to  the  foot  of  the  hill 
and  their  second  line,  halfway  up  the  hill,  dominated 
our  trenches  as  well  as  the  Messines  road.  Every 
night  hundreds  of  m.en — working  parties  and  relieving 
parties— travelled  that  road  and,  considering  the 
dominating  positions  of  the  Germans,  it  was  surpris- 
ing that  our  casualty  Hsts  vs^ere,  comparatively,  so 
small. 

Conditions  here  were  typical  of  a  greater  effi- 
ciency on  the  part  of  the  German  command  than  at 
that  time  was  expected  from  ours.  While  British 
and  Canadian  regiments  marched  to  their  front-line 
trenches  on  an  open  road  without  a  vestige  of  cover, 
the  Germans  had  everywhere  the  most  wonderful 
system    of   communication    trenches,    underground 

41 


42  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

tunnels,  and  dug-outs.  They  followed  a  policy  of 
saving  their  men  in  every  possible  way  except  when 
some  direct  object  was  to  be  gained  when  they  did 
not  hesitate  to  sacrifice  them.  Our  men  and  officers 
alike  seemed  to  be  careless  of  life.  An  instance  of 
this  will  be  conclusive. 

We  spent  weeks  in  building  a  communication 
trench  to  avoid  the  necessity  of  exposing  ourselves 
on  that  open  stretch  of  Messines  road.  When  al- 
most finished  a  heavy  rain  came  on  and  it  was  prac- 
tically all  washed  in.  And  this  simply  because  our 
engineers  had  neglected  to  brace  it  with  posts  and 
wire.  Later  we  worked  at  it  again  for  weeks  but  for 
various  reasons  gave  it  up. 

The  trenches  themselves  on  this  part  of  the  line 
were  all  in  good  shape,  having  been  held  by  Canadian 
battalions.  You  could  always  tell,  when  taking  over 
a  trench  (if  you  did  not  know  in  any  other  way),  who 
had  been  there  before,  by  the  shape  things  were  in. 
The  Canadians  generally  had  won  a  splendid  reputa- 
tion along  this  line  and  we  worked  night  and  day  to 
keep  these  temporary  habitations  as  safe  and  as 
comfortable  as  possible.  It  was  rather  stiff,  coming 
back  from  billets  after  leaving  trenches  in  good 
shape,  to  be  sent  into  those  which  had  been  occupied 
by  some  Imperial  battalion,  to  find  them  scarcely 
up  to  our  waists,  with  no  evidence  of  any  attempt  to 
rebuild  them;  with  their  bombs  rusty,  unoiled,  and 
sometimes  without  detonators,  and  with  their  ammu- 
nition wet  and  rusty.  It  should  not  be  thought  that 
such  conditions  were  general.  The  Guards  divisions, 
for  instance,  had  us  beaten  a  mile  for  trenches,  but 
occasionally — as  for  example  when  we  relieved  the 
Tommies  at  Dickebusch  in  191 5  and  at  Hooge  in 
1916 — such  was  the  case. 

Here  at  Messines  the  trenches  were  high  and  dry, 


TRENCH  LIFE  DAY  BY  DAY  43 

the  sun  during  the  day  was  bright  and  warm,  and 
we  spent  most  of  our  time  sleeping  or  playing  cards 
for  small  sums  to  give  the  game  a  little  tang.  One 
day  four  of  us  were  having  a  game  of  banker  and  one 
chap,  Pete  Martin,  of  Brandon,  v>7as  nearly  broke 
when  the  Germans  started  their  daily  shelling  per- 
formance. They  started  over  on  the  left  and  worked 
slowly  and  methodically  to  the  right  so  that  after  a 
little  time  the  shells  began  to  drop  uncomfortably 
close  to  us  and  soon  were  landing  into  the  parapet 
just  in  front  of  the  dug-out.  Three  of  us  wanted  to 
quit  but  Pete  insisted  on  hanging  on,  seeing  a  chance 
to  get  his  money  back.  Finally  one  of  the  trio  could 
stand  it  no  longer,  slipped  out  of  the  dug-out  and 
disappeared.  Just  then  a  black  shrapnel  burst 
directly  overhead  and  bits  of  it  flew  singing  through 
the  air  in  all  directions,  landing  on  the  roof  above  our 
heads  and  all  over  the  place.  Player  number  two 
disappeared  while  Pete  denounced  him  as  a  quitter 
and  shuffled  the  cards  again.  I  had  just  backed  the 
cuts  when  a  whizz-bang  hit  the  corner  of  the  dug-out, 
tearing  a  sheet  of  corrugated  iron  and  two  or  three 
sand-bags  off  the  roof. 

"Come  on,  Pete,"  I  said.     "Let's  beat  it." 
"No,  no;  just  another  hand,"  growled  Pete's  big 
bass  voice. 

The  dug-out  was  hit  three  times  and  the  last  shot, 
fortunately  a  "dud,"  drove  through  the  thick  wall 
of  sand-bags  until  its  bright  steel  nose  bulged  out 
behind  us.  That  was  near  enough  for  me.  I 
grabbed  my  money  and  made  a  bee-line  for  the  shelter 
of  a  near-by  culvert.  Pete  followed,  grumbling  and 
swearing,  but  instead  of  crawling  into  safety  under 
the  culvert  he  characteristically  settled  down  behind 
a  bomb  store  until  the  bombardment  was  over.  That 
was  a  nice  spot  to  pick,  about  the  last  most  of  us 


44  THE  KaIsER'S  GUEST 

would  have  thought  of.  If  one  of  those  shells  had 
hit  the  store — ^well,  you  can  imagine  how  much  there 
would  have  been  left  of  Pete.  He  often  exposed 
himself  to  danger  unnecessarily  and  seemed  to  be 
absolutely  devoid  of  fear,  but  he  could  always  be  de- 
pended on  to  put  through  any  dangerous  duty 
given  him,  and  this  means  a  great  deal  at  the  front. 
He  was  killed  a  few  months  later  in  the  Battle  of 
Sanctuary  Wood  where  he  went  down  fighting 
gamely  to  the  last. 

But  to  resume  the  story.  Part  of  the  trench  near 
us  was  broken  and  this  spot  had  to  be  patrolled  at 
night  to  guard  against  German  patrols  getting 
through  and  surprising  us.  German  snipers  had  been 
worrying  our  patrols  in  this  open  spot  and  one  night 
Bee  Kay  decided  to  go  out  and  see  if  they  could  not 
be  located.  As  usual  he  sent  for  me,  told  me  to  get 
another  man,  and  to  come  with  him.  In  due  time  we 
started,  Bee  Kay  wearing  a  khaki  great  coat  which 
was  almost  white.  As  he  stepped  out  of  the  trench 
in  the  bright  moonlight  he  was  plainly  visible  and, 
as  my  comrade  said  in  my  ear,  looked  "as  big  as  a 
house."  However,  he  struck  boldly  across  the 
fields,  taking  in  the  scenery  as  he  walked,  and  though 
he  must  have  presented  a  splendid  target,  every^thing 
was  quiet — at  first.  We  sneaked  along  about 
twenty  yards  behind,  ready  to  drop  at  the  first 
warning.  We  didn't  have  long  to  wait.  Bee  Kay 
got  as  far  as  the  German  wire  and  began  to  poke 
about  with  his  stick  when  the  rifles  started  to  crack 
and  the  bullets  flew  by  uncomfortably  close.  In 
the  fifth  of  a  second  we  were  on  our  faces  on  the  grass. 
Not  so  the  bold  Bee  Kay.  Turning  quietly  around, 
he  walked  over  to  where  w^e  were  holding  down  the 
grass  and  said: 

*'D — n  it,   I   believe  they   are  shooting  at  me." 


TRENCH  LIFE  DAY  BY  DAY  45 

Then  he  turned  and  walked  slowly  back  to  the 
trenches.  We  followed  a  little  more  cautiously  at  a 
safe  distance  but  began  to  believe  that  Bee  Kay  had 
a  charmed  life. 

A  few  nights  later,  while  we  were  in  support,  I 
went  with  a  working  party  to  build  up  a  bit  of  D 
Company's  trench.  While  we  were  at  work  a  terri- 
ble thunderstorm  came  on  and  to  add  to  the  fuss  the 
Germans  started  a  bombardment  a  mile  or  two  on 
our  left.  That  was  a  fearful  night.  With  the  light- 
ning, the  sullen  glare  of  the  big  guns  miles  behind  the 
line,  and  the  blaze  of  bursting  shells  near  us  lighted 
up  the  night,  even  through  the  driving  rain,  with  a 
sickly,  despairing  sort  of  light.  Underfoot,  thou- 
sands of  loathsome,  scabby  rats  prowled  around  the 
old  tin  cans  or  scrambled,  squeaking,  about  our  feet. 
Finally  the  night  became  so  bad  that  we  were  ordered 
in  and  plodded  back  to  support,  but  in  our  joy  at  the 
unexpected  relief  we  forgot  all  about  bringing  in  the 
sand-bags  we  had  been  working  with  out  in  No  Man's 
Land. 

The  next  night  saw  us  detailed  for  the  same  duty, 
but  we  had  scarcely  started  to  work  when  a  rattle  of 
rifles  from  the  German  lines  sent  a  shower  of  bullets 
in  amongst  us,  the  first  volley  getting  one  of  the  boys 
through  the  ankles.  Down  on  our  faces  we  dropped, 
pronto.  The  next  volley  struck  one  of  the  boys  on 
the  top  of  the  head,  kilhng  him  instantly.  Another 
was  shot  through  the  arm  and  foot  with  the  same 
bullet.  Picking  up  our  casualties  we  got  back  to  the 
trenches  without  further  loss.  The  Germans,  hav- 
ing discovered  the  sand-bags  we  had  forgotten  the 
night  before,  knew  what  was  going  on  and  had  set 
up  a  rifle  battery  during  the  day  to  command  the 
spot.  That  cured  us  of  leaving  sand-bags  about 
indiscriminately. 


46  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

At  that  stage  of  the  war  bombing  was  at  its  height 
and  was  considered  so  important  that  the  bombing 
officer  was  given  the  privilege  of  choosing  his  men  and 
could  take  any  one  he  pleased  and  who  he  judged 
would  make  good  in  this  special  work,  irrespective 
of  the  wishes  of  any  company  officer.  Naturally 
this  caused  friction  between  the  officers.  Again, 
since  the  *' Suicide  Club" — as  the  bombers  were 
usually  called  because  of  the  dangerous  nature  of 
the  work — ^were  (for  the  same  reason  and  as  a  sort 
of  compensation  for  their  heavy  casualty  lists)  ex- 
cused from  all  working  parties,  some  of  the  same 
friction  appeared  among  the  men.  The  bombers 
were  all  right,  in  the  opinion  of  the  others,  when 
there  was  something  doing  in  the  front  line,  but  "no 
d — n  good"  when  they  were  marching  up  from 
resen/e  trenches  on  working  parties  while  the  bomb- 
ers stayed  behind  in  billets. 

I  had  the  good — or  ill,  whichever  way  you  choose 
to  look  at  it — fortune  to  be  chosen  for  this  special 
work  and  thus  was  numbered  among  the  "No  d — n 
good"  squad.  Our  work  was  to  guard  the  front  line, 
and  any  weak  spot  or  section  where  the  trenches  were 
unusually  close  together  were  specially  allotted  to  us. 
In  some  sections,  again,  bombing  posts  were  placed 
out  in  No  Man's  Land  and  in  these  sections  we  were 
called  upon  to  protect  working  parties  which  were 
building  up  the  front  line.  A  few  bombs  carefully 
placed  were  very  effective  in  breaking  up  a  German 
raid.  The  trench  raid,  introduced  by  the  Cana- 
dians, was  at  that  time  just  becoming  popular,  and 
also  fell  within  our  duties.  Taken  all  in  all,  a  bomber 
lived  a  busy  life  and  one  that  was  usually  as  short  as 
it  was  busy. 

Near  Meteren  the  brigade  had  built  a  big  bomb- 
ing school,  with  which  had  been  developed  an  elabo- 


TRENCH  LIFE  DAY  BY  DAY  47 

rate  system  of  trenches,  dug-outs,  and  saps.  This 
became  our  headquarters  when  out  of  the  front-line 
trenches  and  all  the  men  of  the  battalions  of  the 
brigade  were  sent  down  here  for  a  short  course  in 
bombing.  Provision  for  gas  tests  was  made  at  the 
same  place  and  once  the  whole  brigade  was  marched 
down  to  undergo  the  test.  The  trenches  were  filled 
with  a  gas,  presumably  the  same  as  the  Germans 
were  using,  and  after  being  warned  that  under  no 
circumstances  were  we  to  remove  our  masks,  we 
were  all  marched  through  these  gas-filled  trenches. 
That  gas  was  genuine,  all  right.  One  chap  who 
thought  he  would  try  a  taste  took  off  his  mask  when 
halfway  through.  Another  dropped  his  cap  and 
went  back  for  it  after  he  had  taken  off  his  mask. 
They  were  taken  away  in  an  ambulance  and  we 
heard  that  they  ultimately  died  from  the  effects. 

Up  to  this  time  our  pipe  band  had  been  with  us 
constantly  and  had  been  a  great  help  on  parade  and 
on  the  march.  Particularly  during  the  long,  dis- 
tasteful hours  of  infantry  drill — the  need  of  which 
we  could  scarcely  understand — the  band  stood  us  in 
good  stead.  Of  course  some  of  the  lads  were  con- 
tinually joking  at  the  pipers,  but  they  all  stepped 
out  just  the  same  with  a  good  deal  of  vigour  when,  for 
instance,  the  band  would  strike  up  "The  42d,'* 
or  the  good  old  "Cock  of  the  North." 


CHAPTER  IV 
Up  to  the  Ypres  Salient 

One  fine  morning  our  brigade  was  formed  up  in  a 
big  field  outside  Bailleul,  under  orders  for  the  Ypres 
salient. 

At  that  time  the  spot  was  not  so  w^ell  known  as  it 
became  later,  though  we  had  heard  stories  from 
French,  Belgian,  and  British  soldiers  of  the  horrors 
of  the  place  and  were  naturally  looking  forward  to  an 
active  time.     We  were  not  disappointed. 

Just  as  the  band  struck  up  that  morning  and  the 
huge  mass  of  khaki  began  to  melt  up  into  a  long,  wind- 
ing column,  a  huge  German  plane  sailed  high  overhead. 
Spotting  us,  the  pilot  came  lower  and  lower  and  with 
every  circle  we  expected  the  bombs  to  begin  dropping. 
The  load  must  have  been  given  to  someone  else  earlier 
in  the  day  for,  finally,  and  to  our  rather  material 
relief,  he  flew  away  without  dropping  anything. 

That  day  we  reached  billets  behind  Ypres  where 
we  stayed  the  same  night  and  the  day  following. 
The  next  night,  however,  we  had  our  first  sight  of 
the  town  when  we  went  up  to  relieve  a  division  of 
British  regulars  at  Hooge. 

In  the  dusk  of  the  evening  we  entrained  in  cars  and 
a  very  silent  and  gentle  old  locomotive  pulled  us  up 
toward  the  old  city.  Fritz,  how^ever,  in  some  way 
got  a  fine  on  our  movements  and  shelled  the  track  so 
heavily  that  we  were  forced  to  detrain  and  march  for 
an  hour,  with  shells  bursting  all  about  us. 

48 


UP  TO  THE  YPRES  SALIENT  49 

Ypres  and  its  ruins  have  been  described  a  score  of 
times  so  it  is  not  necessary  for  me  to  stop  to  picture 
it.  It  was  terrible,  even  for  us  who  by  this  time  were 
pretty  well  accustomed  to  the  German  ravages,  to 
see  the  destruction  that  had  reduced  the  thousands 
of  happy,  prosperous  homes  to  a  shapeless  heap  of 
bricks  and  rubbish  and  had  driven  the  people,  desti- 
tute and  suffering,  to  wander  homeless  in  other 
countries. 

_  There  are,  or  were,  several  gates  leading  into  the 
city  and  adjacent  to  each  was  a  bridge  crossing  the 
canal.  All  the  surrounding  roads  converge  on  the 
town  so  that  to  follow  the  roads  it  was  necessaiy  to 
pass  through  it.  Sometimes  v/e  marched  around  it 
through  the  fields,  but  the  artillery  and  transport  all 
passed  through  the  narrow  streets  and  often  became 
jammed  in  the  maze  of  traffic. 

On  this  first  trip  in  we  crossed  the  bridge  and 
entered  the  city  about  eleven  o'clock.  The  night 
was  very  dark  and  the  road  was  full  of  shell-holes 
with  a  row  of  debris  from  the  fallen  buildings  piled 
up  along  either  side,  so  it  was  necessary  to  pick  our 
way  aloHg  very  carefully.  Coming  along  to  the  old 
Cloth  Hall,  with  a  tiny  pinnacle  on  each  corner  still 
left  standing,  we  had  to  halt  awhile  for  here  we  met 
a  British  regiment  coming  out  and  also  a  long  line  of 
transport  which  was  rather  badly  jammed.  We  had 
some  trouble  getting  through  and  were  thanking  our 
stars  that  the  German  artillery  were  not  giving  the 
place  their  usual  attention  for  if  they  had  shelled  it 
at  all  just  then  we  should  have  suffered  heavily. 
Our  battalion  was  known  among  the  others  of  our 
brigade,  however,  as  "The  Lucky  1st"  because  we 
had  had  remarkably  good  fortune  in  the  trenches 
and  had  suffered  less  than  half  the  casualties  sus- 
tained by  the  other  battalions.     This  good  fortune 


50  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

was  largely  due  to  good  management  on  the  part 
of  Colonel  Shaw,  whose  watchfu^  lare  and  sound 
common  sense  certainly  had  a  good  deal  to  do, 
in  more  ways  than  one,  with  the  battalion's  effi- 
ciency. We  never  went  into  the  trenches  without 
first  being  addressed  by  him  and  one  of  these  talks 
will  be  typical  of  his  consideration: 

"Boys,  we're  *  going  in'  again  and  I  want  to  give 
you  a  little  sound  advice.  Last  trip  we  had  our 
usual  good  luck  and  suffered  very  few  casualties. 
Even  some  of  those  could  have  been  avoided.  Jack 
McCauley  was  killed  standing  at  daybreak  with  his 
head  and  shoulders  above  the  trenches.  Now,  I 
want  you  to  remember  that  one  man  can  see  as  much 
as  twenty  and  you  must  keep  under  cover  as  much 
as  possible  and  take  care  that  you  do  not  draw  the 
enemy's  attention  in  any  way.  In  a  month  or  two 
we  shall  be  called  on  to  do  something  and  we  will  do 
it  right.  Then  one  live  man  will  be  better  than 
twenty  dead  ones.  I  know  you  all  feel,  as  I  do,  the 
disadvantage  of  our  present  position,  but  with  the 
coming  change  we  shall  need  every  available  man. 
So  remember  and  take  care  of  yourselves.  Good- 
bye and  good  luck." 

The  "Good-bye"  did  not  mean  that  he  would  not 
"go  in"  with  us.  It  was  for  the  boys  who  would 
never  be  addressed  in  this  way  again,  those  who 
would  be  carried  silently  out  to  join  their  comrades 
"row  on  row,"  and  for  all  of  us  if  the  end  should 
come  for  him.  Colonel  Shaw  could  always  be  de- 
pended on  to  be  on  the  job  as  was  proven  later. 

The  "present  position,"  spoken  of  by  the  Colonel 
we  understood  as  the  pacific  policy  which  our  High 
Command  seemed  to  be  following  at  that  time.  And 
it  need  scarcely  be  mentioned  that  this  sort  of  thing 
was  exceedingly  distasteful  to  the  Canadian  troops. 


UP  TO  THE  YPRES  SALIENT  51 

We  were  told  continually  to  "  Keep  quiet  and  let  the 
Germans  alone  and  they  will  let  you  alone."  The 
Germans  soon  learned  of  this  and  took  every  ad- 
vantage of  it,  shelling  us  regularly  and  harassing  our 
working  parties  with  machine-gun  fire.  The  Air 
Service,  too,  seemed  to  be  following  the  same  policy 
since  the  German  planes  hovered  over  our  lines  al- 
most unmolested  and  our  planes  kept  away,  con- 
sistently refusing  to  meet  them,  something  which 
— knowing  the  courage,  daring,  and  initiative  shown 
by  them  earlier  and  later — must  have  been  as  trying 
to  the  pilots  as  it  was  to  us. 

When  we  came  up  into  Ypres  salient,  however,  this 
policy  was  wearing  out.  Our  airmen  were  becoming 
more  aggressive,  our  artillery  was  beginning  to  "back 
up"  the  infantry,  and  when  an  S.  O.  S.  call  came  in 
from  any  part  of  the  line  Fritz  was  assured  of  a  large 
shipment  of  "souvenirs"  (the  Canadian  name 
for  the  artillery  offerings)  by  rapid  transit. 

Finally  we  got  clear  of  the  transport  and  picked 
our  way  along  a  side  street  over  piles  of  bricks  snd 
rubbish  to  avoid  "Hell-fire  Corner,"  where  Fritz 
seemed  to  have  some  idea  of  establishing  a  new 
graveyard,  for  he  raked  the  spot  day  and  night  with 
coal  boxes.  Jack  Johnsons,  and  other  brands  of  high 
explosive. 

Coming  out  on  the  main  street  again,  we  were 
halted,  waiting  for  the  rear  companies  to  close  up. 
Lying  by  the  side  of  the  road  we  talked  in  whispers, 
and  everything  was  strangely  quiet  except  for  the 
occasional  crack  of  a  rifle  in  the  distance.  We 
watched  the  glare  of  the  fluttering  Very  lights  which 
could  just  be  seen  over  the  top  of  Sanctuary  Wood. 
As  usual,  smoking  was  prohibited,  but  while  waiting, 
one  of  the  boys  shoved  his  head  inside  his  comrade's 
tunic  and  withdrew  it  again  shortly  with  the  forbid- 


52  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

den  "nail"  between  his  teeth.  Soon  from  all  sides 
poured  in  the  whispered  request  "Give  us  a  light," 
and  soon  the  whispering  ceased  while  a  good  many 
of  the  boys  were  enjoying  stolen  draws.  Suddenly 
old  Bee  Kay,  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  road  in 
his  white  coat,  twitched  his  long,  red  nose  and  sniffed, 
muttering:  "Dammit,  I  smell  something  burning." 
With  this  a  keen  eye  might  have  seen  strange  con- 
vulsions among  the  forms  on  the  side  of  the  road,  as 
if  they  had  suddenly  been  attacked  with  cramps. 

In  a  few  minutes  the  word  was  passed  up:  "All 
closed  up  in  the  rear,"  and  we  were  about  to  move 
off  again  when,  w4th  a  rush  and  a  terrible,  blinding 
crash,  a  huge  shell  dropped  into  the  ruins  of  an  old 
house  near  by,  showering  us  with  bricks  and  shrapnel. 
Some  of  the  boys  were  bruised  and  cut  by  the  flying 
rubbish  but  no  one  was  seriously  hurt  and  we  were 
off  in  a  moment  at  the  double.  In  a  few  minutes, 
while  the  bombardment  was  still  kept  up — most  of 
the  shells  fortunately  falHng  over  the  road  and  am.ong 
the  ruins — we  passed  out  of  the  city  across  a  bat- 
tered but  still  serviceable  bridge  and  came  out  on  the 
noted  Menin  road.  For  some  time  the  Germans 
had  been  using  their  machine  guns  as  well  as  artillery 
in  indirect  fire  on  the  road,  making  it  terribly  dan- 
gerous. The  machine  guns,  like  the  cannon,  were 
placed  some  distance  behind  the  lines  and  fired  over 
the  top  of  their  own  trenches,  picking  up  and  register- 
ing special  ranges  so  that  fire  could  be  turned  on  par- 
ticular points  day  or  night. 

We  plodded  silently  along  the  muddy  and  slippery 
road  for  about  fifteen  minutes  when  Br-r-r-r-r-r-r — 
a  machine  gun  opened  fire,  probably  not  directly 
intended  for  us,  but  with  the  off  chance  of  getting 
something.  Fortunately  the  gunner  started  just 
a  moment  too  soon,  for  a  shower  of  sparks  went  up 


UP  TO  THE  YPRES  SALIENT  53 

where  the  bullets  ricocheted  off  the  cobblestones 
about  ten  yards  ahead  of  us.  The  shower  swept 
back  along  the  road — where  we  had  been — (for  about 
half  a  second  after  the  first  bullet  landed  we  were 
on  our  faces  in  the  ditch) — doing  no  particular  dam- 
age, and  when  the  rattle  ceased  we  were  up  and  away 
again. 

That  was  destined  to  be  an  interesting  night. 
Soon  we  came  to  the  great  zigzag  sand-bag  struc- 
ture known  as  the  "China  Wall,"  winding  over  the 
top  of  a  rise  to  the  second  line  behind  Hooge.  This 
had  been  built  by  British  regiments  some  time  before 
to  take  the  place  of  trenches  where  it  was  almost  im- 
possible to  dig  in  and  we  had  to  follow  close  along 
the  base  for  shelter. 

Coming  into  the  second  line  we  found  the  trenches 
in  a  terrible  state.  In  some  places  they  contained  a 
foot  of  water  in  the  bottom;  all  along  the  line  they 
were  badty  battered  and  in  many  spots  were  almost 
entirely  obhterated.  Here  we  met  the  first  com- 
panies of  the  division  we  were  relieving  and  mighty 
happy  they  were  to  get  out  of  what  one  Tommy  de- 
scribed as  "The  worst  hell-hole  on  earth."  We 
could  understand  the  allusion  when  we  learned  that 
this  battalion  had  held  the  trenches  at  that  spot  off 
and  on  for  six  months  and  in  that  time,  without 
taking  part  in  a  single  scrap,  claimed  to  have  suffered 
nine  hundred  casualties. 

Crowding  and  pushing  past  the  tired  and  muddy 
but  happy  Tommies,  exchanging  news  and  advice  as 
we  passed,  we  finally  left  them  behind  and  were 
surprised  to  come  to  a  stretch  where  the  trenches 
had  been  entirely  wiped  out.  Keeping  on  across 
this  spot  we  came  into  the  ruins  of  Hooge  and,  running 
through  the  farther  edge  of  the  town,  found  what  was 
dignified  by  the  name  "Front  Line." 


54  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

It  was  surely  very  comforting  when  we  saw,  even 
in  the  rain  and  darkness,  that  the  trenches  were  in 
terrible  condition.  The  men  of  the  battalion  we  had 
met  going  out  had  not  hesitated  to  tell  us  that  they 
hadn't  put  a  sand-bag  on  the  parapet  for  six  months; 
no  use,  they  said,  for  the  German  artillery  would 
knock  down  next  day  any  constructive  work  done 
the  previous  night.  And  at  this  spot,  too,  the  Ger- 
man trenches  were  only  twenty  yards  away.  But 
still  more  cheering  news  awaited  us. 

When  our  bombing  officer  drew  us  back  to  a  bomb 
store  for  instructions  before  relieving  the  English 
bombers  we  met  the  bombing  sergeant  and  a  couple 
of  men  from  the  other  battalion  and  were  told  that 
their  officer  had  got  lost  the  night  before  while 
out  on  a  patrol,  had  fallen  into  the  German  trenches, 
and  that  he  carried  with  him  plans  of  all  the  bomb 
stores,  showing  their  location  and  also  information 
regarding  the  Canadian  Division — (us) — which  was 
to  relieve  that  night.  We  were  puzzled  to  know 
why  Fritz  didn't  extend  to  us  his  usual  hot  welcome 
to  relieving  troops.     Perhaps  it  was  a  compliment. 

However,  there  was  still  worse  to  come.  On 
our  left,  about  half  a  mile  of  the  trenches  had  been 
entirely  levelled  and  never  rebuilt,  and  there  the  so- 
called  front  line  was  represented  at  night  by  an 
isolated  bombing  post  here  and  there,  by  nothing 
in  the  daytim.e.  And  we  were  to  be  the  defenders  of 
these  defenceless  posts.  However,  we  filled  our 
aprons  with  bombs  and  carried  an  extra  box  apiece, 
and  each  squad  waded — there  is  no  other  way  to 
describe  it — through  the  sticky,  stinking  mud  to  its 
respective  post. 

My  squad  was  told  off  for  what  was  for  several  good 
reasons  a  famous  spot  known  as  "The  Stable  En- 
trenchment."    At  the  narrowest  point  in  the  lines. 


UP  TO  THE  YPRES  SALIENT  55 

in  the  ruins  of  an  old  stable,  a  bombing  post  had  been 
established.  The  Germans  had  a  similar  post  in  the 
other  end  of  the  same  building.  While  the  place 
probably  had  been  a  stable  there  was  nothing  to  in- 
\  dicate  definitely  what  it  had  been,  for  it  was  a  mass 
of  ruins  with  scarcely  one  brick  left  standing. 

The  Germans,  characteristically,  had  built  their  V 
post  up  with  old  iron,  stones,  and  concrete  till  it 
was  almost  a  fort.  Our  end  was  a  little  V-shaped 
ditch,  nothing  more,  and  gave  protection  only  up 
to  our  waists,  offering  no  cover  whatever  from  bombs 
and  rifle  grenades  and  very  little  from  snipers,  who, 
in  this  part  of  the  line,  were  thick  as  flies  and  had 
their  posts  so  cunningly  concealed  that  it  was  almost 
impossible  to  locate  them.  At  that  some  of  them 
were  so  close  that  the  crack  of  their  rifles  would 
deafen  us. 

The  snipers  took  a  terrible  toll  of  lives  here.  Ours 
at  that  time  were  poorly  organized,  had  very  little 
training,  took  little  interest  in  their  work,  and  could 
not  compare  in  temperament  with  the  patient  thor- 
oughness of  the  Germans.  Then  there  wasn*t  a  sin- 
gle sniping  post  we  could  use,  for  Fritz  had  them 
all  spotted.  One  German  sniper  would  expose  him- 
self rather  boldly  while  his  mates  watched  craftily 
from  their  posts.  The  moment  a  head  showed  over 
our  parapet  two  or  three  rifles  would  go  bing  !  and 
nine  times  out  of  ten  their  shots  got  home.  One  big 
German  who  was  specially  bold  at  this  game,  and 
who  himself  got  many  of  our  men,  was  dubbed 
"Deadwood  Dick." 

Naturally  we  went  into  that  "Stable  Intrench- 
ment"  somewhat  gingerly — crawling,  bent  almost 
double — until  we  came  to  the  point  of  the  V,  and 
here  we  found  that  the  German  snipers  had  been 
picking  at  the  sand-bags  till  they  had  cut  a  hole 


S6  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

down  to  within  about  eighteen  inches  of  the 
ground.  When  we  managed  to  get  a  look  around 
another  surprise  awaited  us  for  we  discovered  that 
there  was  absolutely  nothing  in  the  way  of  defence, 
not  even  a  string  of  wire,  between  Fritz  and 
ourselves. 

At  first  everything  was  quiet.  After  a  few  min- 
utes, growing  suspicious,  we  tossed  over  a  few  bom-bs. 
When  the  usual  five  seconds  passed  with  no  explosion 
following  we  examined  our  bomibs  and  found  that 
ever^^  one  in  the  bunch  we  had  brought  along  from 
the  store  was  without  a  detonator  and  was  therefore 
about  as  much  good  as  a  baseball. 

Luckily  everything  was  quiet  that  night,  and  next 
day  we  got  a  chance  to  put  in  some  good  work  at 
getting  them  in  shape.  It  was  a  good  thing  we  did 
for  we  had  a  bomb  fight  every  night  during  the  re- 
mainder of  that  tour. 

The  trenches  looked  even  worse  in  daylight  than 
in  the  dark.  Well  up  in  the  point  of  the  salient  they 
were  exposed  to  shell  fire  from  both  flanks  as  well  as 
from  the  front,  and  the  British  Tommies  who  had 
been  in  there  previously  had  become  so  disgusted 
with  the  trench  material  being  knocked  around 
their  ears  repeatedly  that  they  refused  to  try  to 
build  them  up  again.  They  advised  us,  also,  to 
follow  the  same  course.  About  50  per  cent,  of  their 
number  had  "finished  their  footsteps"  and  were 
"  Pushing  Daisies."  Many  more  had  gone  to  Blighty 
on  stretchers.     A  cheerful  outlook  for  us,  surely!  ^ 

But,  following  the  Canadian  proclivity  for  activity 
as  well  as  for  fighting,  we  were  soon  hard  at  it  im- 
proving the  situation,  building  up  the  trenches  with 
sand-bags,  digging  dug-outs,  and  improving  things 
generally.  The  break  in  the  Hne  received  first 
attention    and    the    isolated    bombing    posts    v/ere 


■  UP  TO  THE  YPRES  SALIENT  57 

linked  up  with  a  trench  which,  when  I  last  saw  it, 
was  about  three  feet  deep. 

We  bombers  were  employed  as  covering  parties, 
lying  out  against  the  German  barbed  wire  to  protect 
the  working  parties  from  patrols  or  raiders.  That 
was  exciting  work,  and  some  of  the  nights  spent 
there  I  recall  vividly  as  the  "hottest"  of  my  expe- 
riences. For  instance,  one  night  just  after  dark, 
our  bombing  sergeant,  Howell,  who  was  and  is  one 
of  the  finest  soldiers  living,  put  his  head  in  an  old 
culvert  under  the  Menin  road  where  we  slept  when 
off  duty  and  "warned"  us  for  a  covering  party. 
We  were  each  to  take  two  riflemen  and  to  place 
them  where  we  thought  best.  Wallie  Nicholson — 
get  well  acquainted  with  him,  please,  for,  splendid 
pal  that  he  was,  he's  going  to  figure  rather  largely 
in  this  tale  from  now  on — and  I  were  among  the  four 
and  so  proceeded  to  get  busy  on  our  supper.  Wallie 
opened  a  Maconachie  and  put  it  on  the  fire  to  warm. 

It  was  to  be  diluted  with  water  but ;  well,  we 

carried  our  water  into  the  trenches  in  the  same  cans 
as  we  used  for  the  oil  for  the  cookers  and  Wallie 
in  some  way  got  hold  of  an  oil  can  and  was  consider- 
ably surprised  and  disgusted  when  the  stew  went 
up  in  flames.  There  was  no  time  to  substitute, 
however,  so  with  no  more  satisfaction  than  hearty 
grumbhng,  we  had  to  pile  out,  fill  up  our  aprons 
with  bombs,  pick  our  riflemen,  and  get  up  to  our 
posts. 

It  had  been  raining  for  a  week  and  was  still  driz- 
zling. The  trenches  were  slippery  and  full  of  water 
and  the  ground  outside  was  so  soft  that  we  sank 
to  our  knees  and  in  the  darkness  staggered  into 
shell-holes  and  ditches,  swearing  softly  and  whisper- 
ing back  a  warning  when  we  felt  a  bit  of  barbed 
wire  under  our  feet.     Crossing  quietly  over  the  new 


58  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

trench — into  which  a  long  line  of  stealthy  figures 
(the  working  party)  loaded  with  sand-bags  and 
shovels  was  already  pouring — we  picked  our  way 
among  the  shell-holes,  barbed  wire,  and  rubbish 
out  into  No  Man's  Land. 

The  position  assigned  me  was  the  most  advanced 
and  lay  on  the  side  of  a  decline  down  which  the 
Germans  were  expected  to  rush  in  the  event  of  a  raid. 
It  was  our  business  to  stop  them,  should  such  a 
contingency  arise.  Posting  my  riflemen  one  on 
either  side  of  me,  though  at  some  little  distance, 
and  giving  them  orders  not  to  shoot  except  as  a  last 
resort,  I  crawled  into  a  shell-hole  on  the  edge  of 
Fritz's  wire  and  began  my  dismal  watch.  The  hole 
was  half  full  of  water  and  the  rain  continued  to 
drizzle  down.  I  squirmed  and  wriggled  to  try  to 
get  into  a  comfortable  position,  but  with  feet  and 
legs  in  the  water  and  those  bombs,  which  seemed 
to  get  harder  and  heavier  every  minute,  in  the  breast 
of  my  apron,  comfort  was  out  of  the  question. 

All  went  serenely  and  the  party  had  been  at  work 
about  an  hour  when — Bingo! — someone  with  a 
sheet  of  corrugated  iron  on  his  back  slipped  and  fell. 
Everything  had  been  quiet  as  a  country  field  just 
before  the  roosters  begin  to  crow,  but  that  falling 
iron  banked  into  the  quietude  so  that  it  setmed  as 
if  the  clang  must  have  been  heard  in  Berlin.  It  was. 
In  a  second  a  dozen  flares  shot  up  from  the  German 
line  and  a  whizz-bang  battery,  which  had  our  range, 
started  in  to  bust  up  that  quiet.  It  did,  too.  For 
the  next  twenty  minutes  I  think  they  landed  on 
every  spot  except  the  three  feet  where  I  was  lying. 
I  was  showered  with  mud  and  shrapnel  and  expected 
every  minute  that  my  head  would  go  off  in  bits. 

One  of  the  flares  fell  on  my  feet.  Of  course 
it  was  the  easiest  thing  m  the  world  to  shove  it  into 


UP  TO  THE  YPRES  SALIENT  59 

the  water  and  end  its  usefulness,  but  things  are  not 
ahvays  what  they  seem.  I  had  once  had  the  pleasure 
of  helping  in  cleaning  up  a  German  listening  post, 
the  occupants  of  which  had  been  foolish  enough  to 
stamp  out  one  of  our  flares  which  fell  on  them,  and 
thus  had  given  away  their  position.  That  taught 
me  a  lesson.  So  I  had  to  squat  there  and  silently 
curse  the  thing,  until  it  burned  out  while  the  fumes 
nearly  choked  me;  and  every  minute  I  expected  a 
bullet,  from  a  sniper  somewhere,  in  the  "cow-cow," 
as  the  Tommies  say. 

When  the  bombardment  eased  ofF  and  everything 
was  quiet  again  I  heard  something  approaching 
from  behind  and  in  a  moment  a  dark  figure  ap- 
peared, picking  his  way  cautiously  toward  me. 
I  halted  him  in  a  low  voice  but  he  paid  no  attention 
and  came  along  directly.  Fortunately  I  recognized 
him  as  the  sergeant  in  charge  of  the  working  party 
so  I  didn't  shoot.  He  told  me  they  had  had  some 
casualties  and  had  been  ordered  in.  I  was  to  follow 
with  my  riflemen  in  ten  minutes. 

He  had  left  me  only  a  minute  or  two  when  a  rifle 
cracked  on  my  left.  I  learned  next  day  that  this 
same  sergeant  had  approached  one  of  our  other 
riflemen  without  answering  his  challenge  and  had 
been  shot  through  the  shoulders — just  a  nice 
"Blighty." 

Crawling  over  to  where  I  had  posted  my  first  man 
I  sent  him  in.  Then  I  made  my  way  to  the  second 
post;  it  had  been  deserted  utterly.  I  prowled  for 
an  hour  but  could  find  no  trace  of  the  man  I  had 
posted  there.  At  last  I  gave  it  up  and  made  my 
way  back  to  the  trenches  where  I  was  cursed  by  the 
corporal  who  had  been  detailed  to  see  us  all  in. 

"Where  are  your  riflemen?"  he  asked. 

"I  sent  them  in  a  while  ago." 


6o  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

"What  the  H 1  kept  you  so  long,  then?'*        • 

(It  seemed  to  me  it  was  time  to  do  a  Httle  wise 
prevaricating.) 

"I  thought  I  heard  something  moving  in  Fritz's 
trenches,"  was  my  answer.  "I  stopped  to  investi- 
gate. 

Grunting  in  disgust  he  told  us  to  get  back  to  our 
dug-outs  and  I  was  soon  asleep  among  the  prowling, 
scabby  rats,  which  lived  in  countless  thousands  in  this 
section. 

In  the  morning  a  messenger  came  down  to  find 
out  where  my  missing  rifleman  was  and  why  he  had 
not  returned  to  his  company.  It  seemed  advisable 
in  all  interests  to  back  up  my  first  lie  with  another,  so 
I  swore  that  he  came  in  with  me,  and  started  off 
down  the  trench  to  see  if  I  could  find  him  an^^vhere. 

It  had  been  a  mistake  to  send  that  boy  out  any- 
way. I  had  noticed  when  we  started  that  he  seemed 
to  have  his  "wind  up"  rather  badly  and  had  con- 
cluded that  the  whizz-bangs  had  been  too  much 
for  his  nerves  and  that  he  had  funked.  It  was 
hot  stuff  and  I  didn't  blame  him.  He  was  in  the 
trenches  for  the  first  time.  However,  since  that  was 
the  worst  crime  possible  and  usually  meant  a  "firing 
squad"  I  was  rather  anxious.  The  boy  turned  up 
later  in  the  day  and  went  back  to  his  company.  I 
never  learned  what  excuse  he  gave  but  it  seemed  to 
be  good  enough  to  get  away  with  for  no  one  else  found 
out  what  actually  happened.  After  a  little  ex- 
perience he  turned  out  to  be  a  splendid  soldier. 

Going  down  the  trench  that  morning  I  ran  into 
something  which  caused  us  a  good  deal  of  satisfac- 
tion. Passing  a  point  where  the  trenches  were  very 
close  together  I  heard  a  voice  in  the  ditch  of  our 
friends  (?)  opposite.  Pulling  my  bayonet  from 
its  scabbard  I  jammed  it  in  between  two  sand-bags 


UP  TO  THE  YPRES  SALIENT  6i 

and  opened  a  tiny  crack,  carefully  covering  the 
hole  with  my  body  so  that  no  light  could  shine 
through.  Directly  opposite  me  a  big  German 
with  a  black,  bushy  beard  was  standing  head  and 
shoulders  above  the  parapet.  His  ugly  face  was 
twisted  into  an  evil,  sneering  grin  and  he  was  talking 
to  someone  in  the  trench  beside  him,  apparently 
urging  him  to  get  up  and  look  around.  While  I 
looked,  the  pale,  scared  face  of  a  young  boy  ap- 
peared beside  his  ugly  one,  and  frightened  eyes 
stared  across  toward  us. 

I  was  just  cursing  my  luck  for  leaving  my  rifle 
behind  when  a  shot  rang  out  close  to  me  and  the 
big  German  threw  up  his  hands  and  fell  back  into 
the  trench,  shot  through  the  head.  Praises  be! 
It  was  "Deadwood  Dick,"  who  had  at  last  paid  the 
penalty  for  his  foolhardiness.  "Dick"  never  troub- 
led us  again. 

A  moment  later  I  found  how  it  had  been  done. 
Two  bays  down  from  me  a  crafty  old  Scotch- 
Canadian  had  refused  the  big  sniper's  invitation 
to  stick  his  head  over  the  parapet  but  had  cannily 
bored  a  hole  with  his  rifle  and  bayonet  through  the 
sand-bags  and  waiting  for  an  opportune  moment, 
had  "pinked"  him. 

The  next  night  we  were  relieved  and  I  was  mighty 
glad  to  get  out  of  that  spot  alive. 

It  was  a  long,  weary  tramp  back  through  the 
narrow,  muddy  trenches  to  the  rest  billets,  and  as 
we  plodded  along  in  astraggling  line,often  the  message 
would  be  passed  from  man  to  man — automatically, 
almost,  without  realization  that  any  such  thing 
was  passing — "Steady  in  Front."  In  a  few  mo- 
ments the  figures  in  front  would  be  stopped  and  the 
same  monotonous  procedure  sent  back  the  nessage: 
"Pass  the  word  when  you've  closed  up."     We  would 


62  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

all  lean  our  packs  and  equipment  against  the  sides  of 
the  trench  to  ease  our  tired  shoulders  till  back  came 
the  message:  "All  closed  up";  and  then  we  slowly 
moved  off  again.  On  the  way  we  invariably  met 
and  crowded  past  other  straggling  lines  of  heavily 
laden  troops,  coming  in  to  relieve.  They  usually 
asked  as  to  conditions  and  the  questions  and  answers 
ran  something  like  this: 

"How's  things  up  the  line?'* 

"Jake." 

"Many  casualties?" 

"About  fifty." 

"Get  shelled  this  trip?" 

"Just  what  you'd  notice."     Or  a  grim  voice  would 


answer: 

"It's  only  a  rumour." 


Every  once  in  a  while,  as  the  man  following  passed 
a  spot  where  the  footing  was  out  of  the  usual,  there 
would  be  passed  down  the  Hne  a  warning  message, 
such  as:  "Wire  underfoot";  "Wire  Overhead"; 
"Step  Up";  "Step  Down";  "Loose  Mat";  "Hole 
to  the  Right";  "Hole  to  the  Left,"  etc.  This 
proved  very  helpful  in  avoiding  bad  spots  which 
otherwise  would  have  been  run  upon  without  warning 
and  would  have  caused  a  great  deal  of  confusion. 


CHAPTER  V 
That  Terrible  Day  at  Sanctuary  Wood 

But  the  end  of  my  fighting  experiences — in 
France — was  drawing  near.  The  next  two  months 
were  spent  in  and  out  between  Hooge  and  Sanctuary 
Wood  and  were  rather  monotonous.  Though  we 
were  in  no  serious  fighting,  our  casualty  list,  never- 
theless, was  regularly  heavy;  and,  so  that  we  might 
have  needed  protection,  the  companies  worked 
steadily,  building  up  and  putting  the  trenches  in 
better  shape. 

I  was  very  glad,  then,  to  be  a  bomber,  for  the 
bombers  were  free  from  this  working-party  duty. 
The  men  of  the  companies  worked  every  night  while 
in  the  front  line;  were  marched  up  every  night  for 
the  same  duty  while  in  reserve;  and,  even  while  back 
for  the  so-called  "rest,"  were  loaded  every  night 
into  the  old  London  'buses  and  taken  up  to  Ypres, 
marched  from  there  to  the  front  and  worked  all 
night,  coming  back  to  the  rest  camp  in  the  morning. 

The  casualties  in  the  bombers*  ranks  were  re- 
placed from  the  companies  by  men  whom  we  put 
through  a  bit  of  special  training.  We  also  did  some 
practising  ourselves  for  we  had  to  keep  in  trim.  But 
at  nights  we  were  free  to  enjoy  ourselves  and  when 
the  other  fellows  were  faUing  in,  grumbling  and 
swearing,  for  a  working  party,  we  were  usually  mak- 
ing for  a  Y.  M.  C.  A.  canteen  or  a  show — if  we  had 
the  price. 


64  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

We  seldom  had  any  money  after  the  first  day  or 
two  "out,"  seemingly  because  of  a  strange  lack  of 
change  at  the  canteens.  Each  of  us  was  given  in 
five-franc  notes  the  sum  of  fifteen  francs  (about 
^3.00)  every  time  we  came  out,  but  most  everybody 
had  a  good  healthy  hankering  for  a  change  of  ra- 
tions. We  alwaj'^s  got  enough,  but  sixteen  days  of 
the  sam^e  thing  grew  monotonous.  So  the  "Y" 
canteens  were  usually  crowded.  Since  change  seemed 
to  be  so  scarce — zvhy^  we  could  never  understand — 
we  often  had  to  "buy"  to  the  full  extent  of  a  five 
franc  note,  and  as  a  consequence  three  trips  to  the 
canteen  on  this  basis  left  us  broke  for  the  remainder 
of  the  rest  period. 

These  Y,  M.  C.  A.  canteens  and  Picture  Shows 
w^ere  run  at  that  time — one  hears  that  these  condi- 
tions have  changed  somewhat  since — on  strictly  com- 
mercial principles;  sentiment  was  not  allowed  to  in- 
terfere in  any  way  with  business.  Even  though  a 
long  line  of  men  were  waiting  their  turn  to  be  served 
the  institution  closed  at  the  set  time — regardless  of 
whether  the  troops  were  going  in  or  coming  out 
of  the  trenches!  The  Picture  Shows — for  which  a 
straight  charge  of  "tuppence-ha'penny"  (2^  pence; 
5  cents)  was  made  at  the  door — w^ere  crowded  to  the 
roof  twice  each  night.  Their  canteen  goods  were 
sold  at  the  same  prices  as  in  the  other  canteens 
(civilian  and  mihtary),  and  as  a  business  concern  the 
Association  gave  us  good  service  at  reasonable  rates. 
Of  course  we  got,  gratis,  the  use  of  buildings,  usually 
government-owned,  and  a  supply  of  writing  paper 
loudly  advertising  the  Association. 

One  of  the  bright  spots  in  my  memory,  before  the 
black  ones  began  to  be  impressed  on  it,  is  that  of  a 
Leave  spent  just  at  this  time,  most  of  it  back  in  old 
Glasgow.     I  had  known  for  some  time  that  this  was 


AT  SANCTUARY  WOOD  65 

sur  le  tapis,  but  it  was  none  the  less  welcome  when 
finally  the  notification  came.  Collecting  a  few 
souvenirs  to  take  home,  I  tramped  in  to  Poperinghe 
and  got  the  train  there.  On  the  same  car  I  found, 
under  guard.  Private  Watts,  one  of  our  fellows, 
who  seemed  to  have  a  way  of  his  own  of  getting  into 
trouble  and  a  little  of  whose  story  it  is  worth  di- 
gressing to  tell. 

However  it  came  to  him,  for  he  had  fevv^  bad  habits 
and  neither  drank  nor  smoked,  Watts  seemed  to  be 
always  in  disgrace  and  spent  most  of  his  time  doing 
pack  drill  or  "First  Field."  He  had  been  held  in 
England  when  we  first  went  to  France;  being  much 
disappointed,  he  tried — in  every  legitimate  way  he 
knew — to  get  drafted  to  the  battalion,  but  unsuc- 
cessfully. He  meant  business,  though.  So  when 
one  day  he  ran  across  the  first  man  of  the  battalion 
on  leave  he  managed,  quietly,  to  get  hold  of  that 
chap's  ticket  and  crossed  over  to  France  on  it.  Our 
O.  C.  was  so  pleased  with  his  determination  to  be 
with  his  battalion  in  the  middle  of  things  that  he 
tried  in  every  way  he  could  to  hold  him,  but  in 
vain:  Watts  was  packed  off  to  Blighty  to  do  a  few  more 
weeks  of  "  First  Field."  I  saw  the  boy  in  London 
again,  a  good  many  months  later,  after  I  had  been 
in  the  clutches  of  the  Kaiser's  slave-drivers  for  a 
year,  and  found  him  considerably  changed.  He  had 
made  good  in  the  trenches,  had  been  given  his  ser- 
geant's stripes,  had  been  wounded  and  was  getting 
nicely  over  it  when  I  ran  across  him.  Strangely,  he 
was  not  a  bit  anxious  to  get  back  to  France  this 
time. 

But  to  resume:  we  were  tied  up  in  Boulogne  that 
trip  for  twenty-four  hours  but  finally,  after  a  night 
trip  across  the  Channel,  arrived  in  London  on  a  dark 
night.     Dark.?     Say!  of  all  the  black  places  on  earth 


66  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

>         . 

I  believe  London,  in  war-time  dress  with  its  lights 

out,  is  about  the  worst. 

I  ran  up  to  Glasgow  directly  and  was  wonderfully 
well  treated  by  the  big-hearted  Scotch  folk.  No- 
body can  talk  to  me  any  more  about  the  tight  purse- 
strings  of  the  Scot.  No  race  in  Britain  has  shown 
the  same  hospitality  to  the  Canadian  soldier.  Per- 
haps the  fact  that  I  had  a  little  of  the  clanny  blood 
in  me  emphasized  this  somewhat,  but  any  Canadian 
has  a  home  in  Bonny  Scotland. 

Returning  to  "The  Smoke"  I  missed  my  train 
and  had  an  extra  twenty-four  hours  there.  And — 
would  you  believe  it? — ^when  I  got  back  to  France 
and  up  near  the  lines  I  began  to  feel  better.  As  we 
reached  the  camp — the  battalion  was  out  on  a  rest — 
and  I  saw  Sergeant  Howell  and  the  bombers  practis- 
ing the  same  old  stunts,  I  began  to  realize  that  I  had 
been  a  little  lonesome  all  the  time  I  had  been  away. 
All  the  pleasures  enjoyed  on  leave,  even  the  warm 
hospitality  and  kindness  of  those  Scotch  homes, 
couldn't  take  the  place  of  the  sounds  and  sights  of 
the  trenches  and  the  camaraderie  which  had  grown 
up]  among  the  fellows  with  whom  I  had  spent  so 
many  months  in  such  trying  circumstances. 

Matters  ran  along  about  as  usual  till  the  last  day 
of  May — how  well  I  remember  those  dates;  I  had 
good  reason  to — ^when  we  went  in  and  took  a  posi- 
tion on  the  point  of  the  Ypres  salient  just  in  front  of 
Sanctuary  Wood.  For  some  unexplained  reason  a 
change  had  been  made  in  the  disposition  of  the  com- 
panies both  in  our  battalion  and  also  in  the  4th  C. 
M.  R.,  which  held  the  Hne  to  our  right,  both  having 
three  companies  in  the  front  line  and  one  in  sup- 
port. This  was  unusual  and  may  have  had  some- 
thing to  do  with  after  events.  Be  this  as  it  may, 
the     two     battalions,     both     considerably     under 


AT  SANCTUARY  WOOD  67 

strength,  were  covering  a  frontage  usually  held  by 
three  battalions. 

Just  back  of  the  front  line  were  the  Cumberlands' 
dug-outs,  which  were  regarded  as  reasonably  safe 
from  the  German  artillery.  During  the  day  the 
bombers  were  allotted  to  these  dug-outs,  going  up 
ever>^  night  for  our  usual  duties. 

The  second  day  in — ^June  1st — Fritz  had  been^ 
showering  us  with  big  trench-mortar  shells  and  Wal- 
lie  Nicholson  and  I  were  picked  to  go  up  with  a  rifle- 
grenade  battery  on  A  Company's  front.  Here,  in 
accordance  with  the  "Pacifist  Policy,"  we  were  in- 
structed to  send  back  a  little  rifle  grenade  for  every 
big  trench-mortar  shell  dropped  on  our  Hne,  but, 
further,  not  to  start  anything  unless  we  had  to. 

While  Wallie  and  I  were  getting  our  equipment  and 
rations  ready  a  young  bomber  who  had  been  told  off 
for  another  squad  came  along  and  tried  to  change 
places  with  me.  His  squad  was  going  back  to  a 
safer  place  in  support  and  he  preferred  the  front  line. 
Holding  to  my  behef  in  my  own  good  luck,  which 
up  to  that  time  had  been  reliable,  I  refused  to  make 
any  change,  sticking  to  my  determination  to  go 
where  I  was  sent.  So,  after  a  fruitless  argument, 
the  youngster  finally  delegated  me  to  a  "hot  spot'* 
and  went  away  while  Wallie  and  I  started  slowly  up 
the  winding,  narrow  trench  leading  to  the  front 
lines.  This  formed  a  junction  with  the  front-line 
trench  on  the  extreme  right  of  our  section  just  where 
the  line  sloped  down  over  "Mount  Sorel" — a  low 
rise  almost  too  small  to  be  called  a  hill.     Our  left 

flank   rested   on   B Avenue,   a   communication 

trench  running  up  from  Sanctuary  Wood. 

Reaching  the  front  line  we  turned  to  the  left, 
walked  down  a  couple  of  bays  and  passing  through  a 
narrow  opening  in  the  parados,  found  a  small  sand- 


68  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

bag  emplacement  where  we  set  up  our  grenade  bat- 
tery, ready  to  punish  Fritz  should  he  drop  any  more 
sixty-pound  sausages  on  our  trench. 

The  fuss,  however,  appeared  to  be  over  for  the 
night,  which,  strangely  enough,  in  the  light  of  what 
followed,  was  the  quietest  I  ever  spent  on  any  part 
of  the  front.  There  was  scarcely  a  sound  all  night 
long  and  only  at  long  intervals  were  star  shells — 
usually  so  frequent — fired  from  either  side.  Things 
were  so  easy  that  Wallie  and  I  crawled  into  a  bit  of  a 
dug-out  with  a  couple  of  sheets  of  corrugated  iron  for 
a  roof  and  went  to  sleep. 

Just  before  "Stand  to"  time  Sergeant  Howell 
and  one  of  his  micn  came  down  the  trench  with  the 
bombers'  rum  ration  and  woke  us  up.  After  giving 
us  a  good  stiff  jolt  of  rum  and  making  the  usual  in- 
quiries about  our  position,  the  supply  of  ammunition, 
etc.,  they  passed  on  down  the  trench.  A  few  minutes 
later  the  company's  rum  jar  came  along  and  we  man- 
aged to  "spear"  a  second  helping  which,  as  Wallie 
remarked,  "fixed  us  up  about  right  for  breakfast." 

We  were  ready  all  right  but  the  breakfast Well, 

we  had  it  a  year  later,  in  Holland. 

The  order  to  "Stand  to"  had  just  been  passed  and 
we  were  thinking  of  getting  that  breakfast  ready 
when  the  shrill  scream  of  a  shell  due  to  alight  some- 
where near  us  called  for  first  attention.  We 
dropped,  pronto,  in  the  bottom  of  the  trench.  Noth- 
ing happened  in  our  immediate  vicinity  from  that 
shell  but  it  was  the  first  of  thousands  that  rained  in 
on  us  for  the  next  six  hours.  The  first  few  fell  just 
behind  the  trench.  Then  one  landed  right  on  top 
of  eur  grenade  battery,  putting  it  out  of  business,  of 
course.  A  minute  later  Sergeant  Sharpe  stuck  his 
head  around  the  parapet  and  asked: 

"Is  your  battery  hit?" 


"WALLY"  NICHOLSON 

From  a  photograph  taken  in  a  pris- 
oner's uniform 


AT  SANCTUARY  WOOD  69 

"Yes,  Sarge,"  Wallie  answered,  laconically.  "She's 
blown  to  Hell.;' 

Sharpe  was  just  as  direct  in  his  order. 

"Get  to  Hell  out  of  here,  then,"  he  said.  "There's 
more  cover  in  the  big  trench."  And  we  did,  but  took 
a  different  direction  from  the  one  our  battery  had 
travelled. 

Picking  our  rifles  and  ammunition  out  of  the  rub- 
bish we  stepped  out  into  the  main  trench  and  were 
moving  down  to  a  more  sheltered  spot  when  another 
shell  hit  the  corrugated  iron  roof  of  a  dug-out  and  a 
jagged  piece  of  iron,  hurtling  through  the  air,  struck 
Sergeant  Sharpe,  cutting  him  almost  in  two.  Some 
of  his  men  placed  him  in  the  firing-step  and  were 
attempting  to  dress  the  wound  but  he  died  instantly. 

We  crawled  down  the  trench  a  short  distance  and 
stopped  for  a  while  in  the  narrowest  place  we  could 
find  while  a  terrible  rain  of  iron  fell  all  around  us. 
The  din  was  deafening;  the  very  ground  rocked  with 
the  violent  concussion  of  the  big  shells.  The  scarcely 
broken  scream  of  the  approaching  shells  and  the 
wailing  whine  of  the  flying  bits  of  steel  and  shrapnel 
bullets  made  a  horrible,  hellish  song,  the  recollection 
of  which  is  engraved  deep  on  my  brain.  And  added 
to  the  din,  the  scene  was  indescribable.  Sand-bags, 
planks,  chunks  of  corrugated  iron,  and  with  these  the 
mangled  bodies  of  men,  were  tossed  jumbled  in  the 
air  to  fall  again  on  the  men  beneath.  The  trench, 
instead  of  being  a  protection,  vv'as  soon  reduced  to  a 
shapeless  mass  of  mud,  debris,  rags,  and  mutilated 
bodies.  It  was  impossible  to  move  the  wounded 
so  they  lay  where  they  fell  and  usually  didn't  suff"er 
long.  It  is  incomprehensible  how  we — how  any  one 
present — survived  that  terrible  fire. 

We  all  knew  there  was  adequate  artillery  support 
behind  us  and  when  the  bombardment  started  that 


70  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

morning  we  cheered  one  another  by  talking  about 
what  our  artillery  would  do  to  Fritz  in  a  few  minutes. 
As  time  passed,  with  the  severity  of  the  German 
fire  increasing  and  the  retaliation  was  not  forth- 
coming, our  boys  were  naturally  bitterly  disap- 
pointed and  sullenly  cursed  the  artiller^\  It  was 
heart-breaking  to  see  the  wounded  lying  around  us 
in  the  trench  waiting  for  the  death  that  under  these 
conditions  was  almost  certain  to  come  to  them  shortly 
— a  situation  which  a  hearty  fire  from  our  guns  would, 
to  a  large  extent,  have  alleviated.  It  was  of  course 
no  fault  of  the  gunners.  They  would  have  been 
mighty  glad  to  do  all  they  could  for  us.  Either  the 
word  did  not  get  through  or  there  was  a  bungle 
somewhere.  We  have  heard  stories,  since,  to  the 
effect  that  requests  sent  back  from  our  headquarters 
for  due  support  were  acknowledged  and  the  promise 
made  that  everything  would  open  up  shortly.  How- 
ever that  may  be  the  fact  remains  that  in  what  was 
(up  to  that  time  at  least)  the  worst  bombardment 
ever  known  on  the  western  front,  not  a  single  gun 
(with  the  exception  of  a  gallant  little  "Peanut 
Battery"  directly  behind  us  which  was  squashed 
early  in  the  game)  in  the  vicinity  on  the  British  side 
answered.  Certainly  not  until  the  end  of  things 
came  for  us. 

As  we  lay  huddled  in  a  comer  of  what  was  left  of 
the  trench,  trying  to  get  what  cover  we  could,  a  big 
fellow  came  staggering  along,  cursing,  a  great  jagged 
hole  in  his  shoulder  where  his  arm  had  been.  When 
he  saw  us  he  straightened  up  and  in  a  voice  of  agony 
cried  out:  "O  Christ,  when  will  our  artillery  open 
up?"  As  he  spoke  a  bullet  caught  him  through  the 
head  and  he  pitched  forward  on  top  of  me,  mercifully 
saved  from  any  more  agony. 

The  German  snipers  lay  along  on  the  parapet  of 


AT  SANCTUARY  VvOOD  71 

their  trench  and  kept  up  a  merciless  fire  on  the 
wounded  and  battered  men  who  were  crawling  back 
and  forward  through  the  heaving,  boiHng  mass  of 
debris,  searching  unavaihngly  for  cover. 

The  artillery  fire  was  directed  in  a  way  we  had 
never  known  before.  Three  German  planes,,  unmo- 
lested by  either  our  planes  or  our  guns,  flew  contin- 
ually back  and  forth  over  our  position,  so  low  down 
that  we  could  plainly  see  the  pilots  watching  our 
trenches  through  their  glasses.  They  were  able  to 
spot  the  smallest  movement  and  immediately  a  sig- 
nal was  transferred  to  their  *' whizz-bang"  batteries 
and  extra  fire  was  directed  on  that  spot. 

About  eleven  o'clock  Nicholson  and  I  crawled 
down  the  trench  for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  without 
seeing  a  single  man  who  hadn't  been  wounded.  What 
was  left  of  the  trench  was  hke  a  butcher's  shop  and 
in  addition  to  the  nerve-racking  sight  of  wounded  and 
mutilated  men,  the  odour  of  blood  and  flesh  was 
sickening  and  horrible.  We  crawled  into  a  culvert, 
hoping  that  this  would  give  some  protection,  but  the 
planes  had  spotted  us  and  directed  such  a  fire  on  the 
spot  that  we  thought  it  better  to  leave  it  and  crawl 
down  a  bit  of  a  trench  our  boys  had  dug  the  night 
before  out  into  "No  Man's  Land.'*  Out  through  the 
wire  we  went,  most  of  the  time  on  our  hands  and 
knees,  till  we  came  to  a  spot  up  quite  close  to  the 
Hun  trenches  where  the  ditch,  turning  sharply  to  the 
right,  formed  an  acute  angle,  which,  largely  by  reason 
of  its  very  nearness  to  the  enemy  position,  ofiered  a 
little  more  cover  than  anywhere  else  we  could  find. 

After  a  little  time  we  were  joined  here  by  four 
others  who  came  up  behind  and  tried  to  persuade  us 
to  go  up  still  farther.  The  trench  was  too  narrow 
for  an}^  one  to  pass,  and  since  I  was  in  the  lead,  and 
expected  a  German  patrol  to  come  up  this  trench 


72  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

shortly,  I  refused.  For  a  little  time  we  were  fairly 
secure  here  but  the  airmen  spotted  us  again  and  di- 
rected some  of  their  big  trench  mortars  on  us.  Three 
hundred  of  these  big  stubby  guns  had  been  placed  on 
our  front  and  they  were  certainly  made  good  use 
of  that  day.  Ordinarily,  it  was  possible  to  estimate 
with  fair  accuracy  where  the  shells  would  fall  and  to 
get  ready  for  them.  The  huge,  slate-coloured  pro- 
jectiles would  rise  almost  vertically  to  a  great  height, 
then  faUing  slowly,  would  come  wabbhng  down  with 
a  "flopping"  sound  and  explode  with  terrific  con- 
cussion. These  guns  had  been  placed  in  pairs  so 
that  the  shells  crossed  in  the  air,  and  with  the  shells 
coming  from  all  along  the  front,  it  was  impossible  to 
guess  where  they  would  drop. 

They  soon  got  to  us.  Two  of  the  fellows  who  had 
come  in  behind  were  killed  and  another  wounded. 
The  latter  passed  a  .32  automatic  Colt  up  to  me.  It 
was  loaded,  but  since  I  had  never  had  one  Hke  it  in  my 
hand  before  and  didn't  know  how  to  use  it,  I  slipped 
it  in  my  pocket  and  forgot  about  it. 

The  other  one  of  the  four,  who  had  been  mumbling 
and  cursing,  suddenly  seemed  to  go  out  of  his  head 
for  he  climbed  out  of  the  trench  in  the  middle  of  all 
that  fire  and  walked  slowly  back  toward  our  lines, 
refusing  to  answer  when  we  shouted  to  him  to  come 
back.  He  had  only  gone  a  few  yards  when  a  ma- 
chine gun  rattled  and  he  went  down  in  a  heap.  Just 
about  then  a  flying  chunk  of  shrapnel  struck  me,  en- 
tering my  leg  at  the  knee  and  driving  up  into  my 
thigh. 

Wallie  dressed  my  knee  as  well  as  he  could,  which 
was  a  job  indeed,  in  the  midst  of  that  hell  of  fire. 
The  big  shells  seemed  to  be  coming  closer  every 
minute  and  he  shock  from  the  concussion  threw  us 
time  and  time  again  against  the  bottom  of  the  trench 


AT  SANCTUARY  WOOD  J73 

and  bruised  us  with  falling  chunks  of  earth.  A 
few  moments  after  I  was  hit  a  big  shell  exploding 
near  by  tossed  up  an  enormous  bank  of  mud  which 
fell  literally  on  top  of  Nicholson,  buried  him  com- 
pletely and  nearly  killed  him.  I  dug  him  out,  nearly 
suffocated  and  so  badly  bruised  that  he  was  scarcely 
able  to  move. 

We  knew  then  that  further  existence  in  that  spot 
was  only  a  matter  of  minutes  and  decided  to  try 
to  get  back  over  the  top — the  trench  behind  had  been 
entirely  flattened  out — to  where  the  support  trench 
had  been. 

We  managed  to  crawl  along  for  some  distance,  but 
on  reaching  what  had  been  the  support  trench  found 
it  now  merely  a  ragged  scar  on  the  earth.  Little 
was  to  be  seen  of  dead  or  wounded,  for  the  tumbling 
earth  and  rubbish  had  buried  them  almost  com- 
pletely. All  we  could  do  was  to  try  to  keep  behind 
occasional  banks  or  to  get  into  bits  of  holes  which 
had  not  been  altogether  filled  up.  Once  in  a  while, 
when  we  took  a  look  at  the  German  trenches,  we 
could  see  them  lying  peacefully  in  the  sunshine  with 
not  a  shell  falling  from  our  side.  Dozens  of  heads 
could  be  seen  over  the  top  of  the  parapet  and  a 
steady  fire  was  kept  up  on  anything  moving  in  our 
line. 

While  we  crawled  on  for  some  distance  I  got  an- 
other flesh  wound  in  the  thigh  from  a  rifle  bullet. 
Suddenly  the  angry  rattle  of  a  machine  gun  on  our 
right  drew  our  attention. 

"They  must  be  coming  over,"  Wallie  shouted. 

When  we  peered  over  the  little  pile  of  rubbish  in 
front  of  us  there  were  the  gray-clad  figures,  pouring 
over  the  parapet  in  swarms  with  their  rifles  slung 
over  their  shoulders,  evidently  expecting  no  resis- 
tance.    Just   then    the   machine   gun,  which  some- 


74  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

one  had  managed  to  keep  in  order  all  through  that 
melee,  swung  round  and  caught  the  line  in  front  of  us 
and  those  Germans  went  down  like  grain  before  a 
binder.  We  were  surprised,  too,  to  hear  a  rifle  speak 
from  a  shell-hole  here  and  there.  We  got  our  own 
rifles  into  play  and  fired  till  they  were  red  hot,  mak- 
ing every  shot  tell. 

We  could  see  the  surprise  on  those  German  faces. 
Our  trenches  had  been  so  reduced  that  I  suppose 
they  didn't  expect  to  find  a  living  man.  They  made 
a  couple  of  short  rushes  but  suff^ered  so  heavily  that 
they  soon  retired  and  left  that  part  of  the  line  to  be 
dealt  w  ith  later. 

Up  till  that  time  we  had  no  idea  whatever  of  what 
was  going  on  behind  us.  While  we  got  some  inkling 
of  it  then,  it  wasn't  until  we  had  a  chance  to  talk  it 
over  in  Germany  with  some  of  the  boys  who  had 
been  in  other  parts  of  the  line,  that  we  learned  of  the 
general  situation  that  morning.  As  a  matter  of  fact, 
w^e  had  been  cut  off  for  some  time.  The  Germans 
had  driven  a  wedge  through  the  right  flank  of  the 
Princess  Pat's,  where  their  line  rested  on  the  comer 
of  Sanctuary  Wood,  by  means  of  a  mine,  which,  pre- 
pared previously,  and  exploded  at  the  psychological 
moment,  formed  a  breach.  Through  this  they  drove 
down  into  Sanctuary  Wood  and  the  Cumberland's 
dug-outs  where  our  Headquarters  and  the  support 
company  were  established. 

To  the  right,  in  the  lines  held  by  the  4th  C.  M.  R., 
another  mine  was  sprung.  This  opened  another 
breach  and  another  drive  went  through  here,  the 
wedges  converging  on  Sanctuary  Wood.  Here, 
under  the  command  of  Colonel  Shaw,  the  few  re- 
maining men  of  our  supporting  company,  with  some 
stragglers  from  the  front  line  who  had  succeeded  in 
crawling  back  to  the  shelter  of  the  wood,  put  up  a 


AT  SANCTUARY  WOOD  75 

gallant  but  hopeless  fight.  They  resisted  desperately 
but  the  Germans  poured  in  from  both  sides  in  huge 
numbers,  many  with  machine  guns  strapped  to 
their  backs.  To  put  the  guns  into  action  these 
fellows  knelt,  their  bodies  serving  as  tripods,  while 
others  worked  the  guns. 

Colonel  Shaw  was  killed  there,  fighting  to  the  last, 
as  we  knew  he  would.  And  with  his  little  force 
finally  reduced  the  main  body  of  the  Boches  pushed 
forward  and  established  their  new  line  in  Maple 
Copse,  just  behind  Sanctuary  Wood.  Then  large 
parties  were  sent  back  along  our  positions  to  "mop 
them  up." 

When  the  attempt  to  come  over  immediately 
in  front  of  us  appeared  to  have  been  given  up  Wallie 
and  I  felt  a  good  deal  more  hopeful  and,  never 
dreaming  of  what  had  been  going  on  around  us, 
decided  to  tr^'^  to  get  back  to  Sanctuary  Wood.  We 
crawled  on  from  one  shell-hole  to  another,  over  dead 
and  mangled  bodies,  seeing  here  and  there  a  few 
wounded.  Scarcely  one  of  these  could  speak  and 
apparently  had  been  so  stupefied  by  the  shock 
of  the  shells  that  they  could  not  even  hear  when  we 
spoke  to  them.  The  German  barrage  had  lifted 
some  time  before  but  the  heavy  trench  mortars, 
too  big  to  move  quickly,  were  left  in  their  places 
till  the  new  line  could  be  consolidated  and  to  ward 
off  a  counter-attack  and  still  kept  firing  on  our 
wrecked  trenches.  We  had  to  move  very  carefully 
to  miss  these  shells.  Usually  we  followed  the 
plan  of  keeping  still  until  we  saw  a  shell  drop  and 
then  crawled  along  for  a  few  yards  and  waited  till  we 
could  hear  the  dull  report  of  the  mortar  again. 
We  managed  to  work  our  way  along  in  this  fashion 
for  a  quarter  of  a  mile  or  so  to  a  communication 
trench    running    back    into    Sanctuary   Wood,   but 


76  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

there  was  mighty  little  of  this  left  and  such  a  hot 
fire  was  centred  on  the  spot  we  thought  it  better 
to  turn  back.  Near  us  here  we  saw  four  or  five 
wounded  fellows  under  the  care  of  a  Red  Cross  man 
and,  not  wishing  to  draw  attention  to  them,  we 
crawled  back  down  the  trench  again. 

By  this  time  we  were  both  in  pretty  bad  shape. 
Wallie  was  bruised  and  almost  helpless  from  the 
effect  of  the  shell  shock  back  near  the  German  lines 
and  was  worse  off  than  I,  though  my  wounds  had 
been  paining  fearfully.  We  helped  each  other  along 
as  best  we  could  but  hadn't  gone  far  v/hen  a  shell 
burst  with  a  blinding  flash  right  in  our  faces.  With 
this  I  felt  a  sharp  crack  betv/een  the  eyes  and  a  queer 
pain  followed  shooting  through  my  head.  Putting 
my  hand  to  my  face,  down  which  the  blood  was 
streaming,  I  felt  something  sharp  and  thin,  like  the 
blade  of  a  knife,  sticking  out  between  my  eyes.  It 
was  a  piece  of  shrapnel  which  had  lodged  in  the 
lower  part  of  my  skull,  just  at  the  inner  end  of  my 
right  eyebrow.  Wallie  tried  to  pull  the  splinter  out 
but  it  was  too  deeply  imbedded  and  had  to  be  left 
though  the  pains  in  my  head  were  becoming  un- 
bearable. 

While  w^e  stayed  here  we  heard  a  few  scattered  rifle 
shots  and  noticed  jets  of  black  smoke  rising  here  and 
there.  Peering  over  the  top  of  the  ragged  remains 
of  the  trench  to  find  out  what  was  happening  we 
saw  the  German  mopping-up  party  making  their 
way  slowly  along  the  hne,  and  to  our  horror  saw  that 
they  were  pumping  liquid  fire — the  cause  of  the  smoke 
jets — on  the  wounded  men  in  the  shell-holes,  burning 
them  up.  When  any  resistance  was  offered  the 
victim  was  mercilessly  shot. 

We  had  used  up  all  our  ammunition  when  the 
Germans  had  attempted  to  come  over,  a  little  time 


AT  SANCTUARY  WOOD  m 

before,  and  Wallie's  rifle  had  been  smashed  by  the 
shell  which  wounded  me,  so  that  we  had  absolutely 
no  means  of  defence;  and,  since  there  seemed  to 
be  no  hope  for  any  one  in  that  section  that  day,  we 
thought  it  wise  to  look  around  for  a  place  in  which 
to  hide  from  those  cold-blooded  murderers.  After 
a  moment's  search  we  discovered  the  rnouth  of  a 
small  wooden  culvert  which  had  been  built  to  drain 
the  water  out  of  the  trenches,  and  managed  to  crawl 
painfully  into  the  narrow  opening  until  we  thought 
we  were  about  halfway  through.  Then  we  lay 
still,  awaiting  we  knew  not  what,  hoping  against 
hope  that  we  might  not  be  discovered  but  scarcely, 
knowing  what  would  be  in  store  for  us  in  any  events 
since  even  there  we  were  behind  the  new  Germam 
line. 

In  a  few  minutes  pairs  of  gray-clad  legs  with  top 
boots  began  passing  and  just  when  we  thought 
they  had  all  gone  by  and  that  immediate  danger,' 
at  least,  was  past,  a  pair  of  boots  appeared  right 
at  the  opening.  One  foot  was  lifted  and  placed 
on  the  edge  of  the  planks  of  the  culvert  and  we  could 
see  a  big  pair  of  red  hands  working  at  the  boot, 
which,  from  the  accompanying  cursing  in  a  gruff 
German  voice,  must  have  been  causing  the  wearer 
some  trouble.  We  held  our  breath  for  a  few  mo- 
ments and  then,  to  our  rehef,  the  foot  was  with- 
drawn and  the  legs  disappeared. 

We  lay  in  that  culvert  a  good  while  before  we  ven- 
tured to  crawl  out  again,  but  after  a  while  everything 
appeared  to  be  quiet  and  we  knew  that,  if  we  were 
to  get  back  to  our  ov^ti  lines  at  all,  the  attempt  would 
have  to  be  made  shortly  so  we  crawled  out  again  and 
worked  our  way  over  to  the  side  of  Mount  Sorel 
where  we  could  still  hear  battle  sounds. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  sight  that  greeted  us  there. 


78  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

A  big  sloping  hollow  crossed  our  trenches  at  the  foot 
of  the  incline  and  this  had  been  the  spot  chosen  by 
the  German  engineers  for  their  mine.  Now  a  great 
mass  of  German  infantry  was  swarming  up  this 
hollow.  Thousands  of  them  poured  out  of  their 
trenches  in  a  dense  gray  mass,  which  spread — like  a 
solid  substance,  rather  than  as  men — over  the  ad- 
jacent ground.  As  they  pressed  on  the  machine 
guns  of  the  5th  Battalion  on  the  distant  slope  of  the 
hill  were  doing  terrible  execution.  At  times  the 
gray  horde  would  seem  to  crumble  and  melt  away 
and  then  we  could  see  the  ground  covered  with 
German  dead.  But,  behind,  the  stream  pressed  on, 
filling  the  breaches,  driven  by  the  officers  who  could 
be  seen  brandishing  their  revolvers  and  urging  their 
men  forv/ard  over  the  heaps  of  dead.  Some  of 
them  went  fonvard  in  rushes,  falling  on  their  faces  at 
intervals  and  then  rushing  on  again.  But  most  of 
the  force  moved  on  steadily  until  they  came  into 
range  of  the  Canadian  machine  guns  or  found  the 
shelter  of  the  wood.  Our  men  were  having  their 
innings  now  and  were  making  up  in  good  shape  for 
the  slaughter  in  the  front  trenches  earher  in  the  day. 


CHAPTER  VI 
In  the  Hands  of  the  Kaiser's  Minions 

It  was  clear  to  us,  now,  that  we  were  cut  off,  so,  in 
default  of  anything  better,  we  drew  back  from  the  crest 
of  the  hill  and  crawled  into  a  hole  close  by.  For  a  little 
time  we  lay  there  unmolested  but  finally,  a  party  came 
out  of  a  near-by  bit  of  communication  trench  and 
began  digging  a  trench  for  the  new  position  just  in  front 
of  us.  They  had  only  worked  a  few  minutes  when,  as 
was  inevitable,  one  of  them  saw  us  and  came  over  and 
stood  with  his  shovel  raised  threateningly  while  he 
called  us  "Englander  Schweinerie"  and  all  the  other 
bad  names  he  could  think  of.  The  others  heard  him 
and  gathered  round  and  a  hot  argument  ensued. 

At  the  time  we  didn't  know  any  Germ; in  and  so 
couldn't  understand  what  it  was  all  about.  From 
the  gestures,  though,  we  judged  that  they  were  dis- 
cussing what  was  to  be  done  with  us  and  that  some 
of  them  were  in  favour  of  doing  away  with  us  there 
and  then.  Two  or  three  of  them  had  their  rifles 
and  several  times  they  drew  them  back  with  the 
long,  broad-bladed  bayonets,  as  if  to  stick  us,  at 
the  same  time  cursing  us  bitterly. 

By  this  time  we  were  pretty  nearly  past  feeling. 
We  knew  we  were  almost  certain  to  be  killed  anyway 
and  we  had  narrowly  escaped  death  a  thousand  times 
already  that  day  so  that  we  were  not  much  affected 
by  the  outlook.  And  probably  this  indifference  was 
what  saved  us. 

79 


8o  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

They  evidently  expected  us  to  cower  in  the  bottom 
of  the  shell-hole  and  to  beg  for  mercy  as  certainly 
they  would  have  done  in  similar  circumstances. 
We  were  not  begging  for  anything  just  then,  but, 
paying  no  attention  to  their  threats,  we  crawled 
up  on  the  edge  of  the  shell-hole.  There  I  ordered 
them  oft  with  as  great  a  show  of  authority  as  would 
have  been  exercised  by  a  German  N.  C.  O.,  when, 
to  our  surprise,  they  lowered  their  bayonets,  and 
appeared  to  regard  us  with  less  hostility  and  new 
interest.  They  talked  the  matter  over  awhile 
longer  and  then  one  big  fellow  ordered  us — in  Ger- 
man, which,  by  dint  of  his  gestures,  we  were 
made  to  understand — to  get  back  into  their 
trenches.  We  staggered  along,  helping  one  another 
as  best  we  could,  he  following  with  the  point  of  his 
bayonet  about  an  inch  from  my  back,  and  keep- 
ing up  an  incessant  tirade  in  his  hard,  guttural 
growl. 

We  noted  here  that  the  German  trenches  were 
still  undamaged.  We  saw  only  two  dead  Germans 
in  the  front  line  and  only  one  spot  where  their  para- 
pet had  been  hit  by  a  shell.  As  we  passed  down  we 
met  long  lines  of  men  loaded  with  sand-bags,  shovels, 
machine  guns,  ammunition,  and  all  sorts  of  supplies. 
Scarcely  one  passed  us  without  a  curse,  and  most  of 
those  that  were  not  handicapped  by  material  drew 
their  bayonets  back  and,  I  am  sure,  would  have  run 
us  through  but  for  our  captor  who  clung  to  us 
desperately  and  who  apparently  was  using  his  pris- 
oners as  an  excuse  to  get  out  of  the  battle  zone 
himself.  We  wore  the  bright  red  and  black  badges 
on  our  sleeves  proclaiming  us  bombers.  And  when 
the  Germans  caught  sight  of  these  they  became 
infuriated,  for  they  have  no  love  for  a  Canadian 
bomber.     Time   and   again   I   expected   to   see   the 


THE  KAISER'S  MINIONS  8i 

end  right  there  but  our  guide  fended  them  off  and  we 
were  forced  along. 

In  and  out  through  a  maze  of  perfect  communica- 
tion trenches  we  carried  on  till  we  came  to  a  lot  of 
concrete  trenches  and  dug-outs  which  must  have 
been  their  second  Hne.  This  spot  was  densely  packed 
with  men  and  I  could  not  help  thinking  what  terrible 
work  our  artillery  might  have  done  among  these 
thousands.  Instead,  all  was  as  quiet  and  peaceful 
back  here  as  if  there  were  no  war  on. 

We  came  to  a  dressing  station  where  our  wounds 
were  roughly  dressed.  When  one  of  the  orderlies 
pulled  the  shrapnel  splinter  out  of  my  brow  I  was 
horrified  to  find  myself  become  almost  totally  blind. 
Imagine,  if  you  can,  how  I  felt — a  prisoner  in  the 
hands  of  these  wanton  murderers  (as  we  knew  them 
to  be),  without  being  able  to  see  what  was  happening. 
I  could  only  see  faintly  out  of  the  right  eye  and  had 
to  ask  or  form  my  conclusions  as  to  what  was  to  come 
next. 

Quite  a  number  of  prisoners  had  been  gathered 
together  here  and  they,  like  us,  were  in  terrible  shape. 
Most  of  them  were  wounded.  A  few  had  escaped 
actual  wounds.  But  everyone  was  in  a  sort  of 
stupor  from  the  effects  of  the  terrible  bombard- 
ment while  most  of  them  were  half  crazy  as  the  re- 
sult of  what  they  had  come  through,  and  everyone 
was  so  deaf  that  we  had  to  shout  at  each  other  in 
order  to  be  heard. 

After  a  little  time  we  were  sorted  out  from  the 
standpoint  of  our  ability  to  get  along  alone,  Wallie 
and  I  being  picked  out,  with  a  lot  of  others  about 
as  bad,  as  walking  cases. 

And  in  that  shape  we  were  started  off  on  what  was 
to  be  a  fifteen-mile  march  without  a  let-up. 

God  in  heaven!     I  shall  never  forget  to  the  last 


82  THEIICAISER'S  GUEST. 

day  of  my  life  the  horror  of  that  march.  Those 
deputed  as  guides  were  anxious  to  get  out  of  the 
range  of  the  British  artillery,  particularly  since  they 
were  all  puzzled  by  the  strange  silence  on  the  part 
of  our  guns,  and  every  moment  expected  this  to  be 
broken  in  earnest.  One  or  two  who  could  speak  a 
little  English  asked  us  repeatedly  why  our  guns 
hadn't  supported  us  and  were  not  satisfied  when  we 
told  them  simply  that  we  didn't  know.  Conse- 
quently we  were  driven  mercilessly. 

Broken,  ragged,  bloody,  and  hopeless  we  staggered 
along,  helping  one  another  when  we  could.  The 
awful  despair  and  misery  which  looked  out  of  the 
eyes  of  the  poor  wounded  fellows  as  we  were  urged 
along  by  the  guards  were  too  agonizing  to  be  ex- 
pressed. 

A  couple  of  miles  to  the  rear  we  vv^ere  handed  over 
to  a  squad  of  Uhlans,  who  sat  on  their  big,  lean 
horses  and  laughed  at  us  and,  in  their  turn,  drove 
us  Vv'ith  their  long  steel-tipped  lances. 

We  found  out  by  actual  experience  during  this 
march  that  the  stories  of  the  ill-treatment  of  the 
French  and  Belgians  in  the  occupied  territory  had 
not  been  exaggerated.  Dragging  ourselves  slowly 
along  we  passed  from  time  to  time  through  small 
towns  and  villages.  Again  and  again  in  these  places 
the  civilians,  though  apparently  almost  starving 
themselves,  gathered  along  the  streets  and  tried 
to  hand  us  bread,  chocolates,  cigarettes,  and  water. 
We  were  suffering  terribly  from  thirst,  not  having 
had  a  chance  to  get  a  drink  since  morning,  but,  with 
their  lances,  the  guards  invariably  drove  these  poor 
people  back  or,  in  some  cases,  rode  them  down. 
They  tried  to  make  us  believe  that  these  people  were 
trying  to  poison  us. 

It  was  pitiful  to  see  the  fear  in  which  the  wretched, 


THE  KAISER'S  MINIONS  83 

half-starved  Belgians  generally  held  the  Germans. 
Old  women  and  little  children  would  turn  at  the 
sight  of  a  Uhlan  and,  running  as  fast  as  they  could 
till  a  place  of  immediate  safety  was  reached,  would 
peek  fearfully  round  the  corners,  making  certain  that 
none  of  the  persecutors  was  in  sight  before  they  would 
venture  even  to  cross  the  street.  It  was  very  easy  to 
see  how  these  people  had  been  cowed  and  broken 
till,  now,  they  were  nothing  better  than  slaves. 

Through  the  afternoon  and  the  long  summer  eve- 
ning that  hideous  march  was  forced  on.  Time  after 
time  I  thought  I  should  drop  with  the  weariness  and 
pain  of  it  all.  Again  and  again  I  thought  it  would 
be  better  to  die  there  than  to  try  to  make  another 
hundred  yards.  But  in  spite  of  all  the  pain  and 
weariness  and  the  horrible  feeling  of  being  driven  Hke 
cattle  in  an  enemy  country,  there  seemed  to  be  among 
the  boys  a  determination — which  afterward  became 
very  manifest  in  the  prison  camps  and  which  has  kept 
many  a  man  alive — ^to  show  these  German  brutes 
that  we  were  British  and  that  British  soldiers  had  the 
nerve  and  stamina  to  endure  anything  without  being 
broken.  _     ! 

Like  everything  else,  that  march,  which  seems  like 
a  horrible  nightmare  when  I  look  back  on  it,  had  to 
have  an  end.  About  ten  o'clock  we  dragged  our- 
selves into  Courtrai  and  were  placed  in  a  barn  for 
the  night.  And  here  was  served  our  first  meal  by 
Germans — a  small  square  of  black,  sour  bread,  and 
a  bowl  of  a  black,  bitter  liquid  they  called  coffee. 
Most  of  us,  too  sick  and  weary  to  think  of  eating 
even  though  we  had  had  nothing  all  day,  dropped 
on  the  floor  of  the  barn  like  dead  men. 

Some  of  the  boys  were  able  to  sleep;  I  wasn't. 
Utterly  worn  out  physically,  my  mind  was  still  too 
active,  tearing  back  over  the  events  of  that  ail-too- 


84  .THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

terrible  day,  to  give  me  the  needed  rest.  Added  to 
the  other  torment  my  eyes  pained  me  excruciatingly 
so  I  sat  up  against  the  wall  all  night. 

Such  a  night  I  hope  I  may  never  experience  again. 
If  there  be  any  place  on  earth,  or  in  the  hereafter, 
where  suffering  is  greater  than  was  evident  in  that 
dirty  old  bam  in  Belgium  that  night  I  pray  to  be 
delivered  from  it.  Even  the  fellows  who  slept  by 
reason  of  their  physical  exhaustion  were  subcon- 
sciously awake  and,  dreaming  that  they  were  in  the 
thick  of  the  battle  again,  would  roll  about  the  floor 
fighting  and  kicking  in  terrible  earnestness,  until 
some  of  their  friends,  taking  pity  on  them  and  on 
some  of  us,  would  shake  them  back  into  conscious- 
ness. All  night  long  a  silent,  sinister  figure  of  a  big, 
black-bearded  Prussian,  with  his  spiked  helmet 
and  long,  glittering  bayonet,  making  him  appear  in 
the  half-light  as  one  of  Satan's  own  minions,  stalked 
slowly  up  and  down  the  barn  floor. 

Even  that  night  of  horrors  came  to  an  end  and, 
although  we  were  terribly  stiff  and  sore  in  the  morn- 
ing, the  small  amount  of  rest  we  had  gained  sufficed 
to  give  us  new  spirit  and  we  were  ready  to  buck  the 
Germans  in  any  way  we  could,  for  w^hen  we  realized 
fully  that  we  Avere  prisoners  we  determined  that  the 
fight  should  be  carried  on  behind  his  lines  as  well  as 
in  front  of  them. 

This  became  evident  when  a  few  of  the  boys  were 
taken  over  quite  early  and  paraded  before  a  bunch  of 
German  officers  who  apparently  hoped  to  get  some 
useful  information.  They  were  treated  at  first  to 
wine,  cigars,  and  cigarettes — a  sort  of  softening 
process,  I  suppose — and  were  then  put  through  a  very 
severe  cross-examination  as  to  the  number  and  loca- 
tion of  our  troops  and  guns.  A  lot  of  satisfaction 
they  got!     O'jr  fellows  gave  them  plenty  of  informa- 


THE  KAISER'S  MINIONS  85 

tion — such  as  it  was — but  apparently  they  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  not  much  of  it  was  to  be  rehed 
upon  for  the  examination  was  finally  given  up  in  dis- 
gust and  our  boys  were  denounced  as  fools  for  coming 
over  to  France  to  fight. 

During  the  morning  we  were  marched  farther  back 
and  herded  into  a  sunken  enclosure  or  pit  close  to  the 
Courtrai  railway  station.  About  noon  we  were 
given  a  bowl  of  vegetable  soup,  and,  while  it  wasn't 
particularly  palatable,  we  were  "ready  by  this  time 
to  appreciate  anything.  Movement  was  destined  to 
be  frequent  at  that  time  for,  late  in  the  evening,  we 
were  loaded  in  box  cars  and  started  on  a  lengthy  and 
terribly  slow  journey  back  into  Germany. 

The  memories  of  that  trip  stick  also.  We  were 
two  days  and  nights  on  that  train,  sitting,  lying, 
and  standing  by  turn  in  those  dirty  cars  without  any 
provision  for  comfort  or  common  decency  and  to 
those  of  us  who  were  wounded  and  suffering  the  jour- 
ney was  inexpressibly  painful  and  tedious.  Added 
to  this  were  the  pangs  of  hunger  and  thirst.  Our 
rations,  en  route,  were  a  bowl  of  thin  soup  once  a 
day.  Coming  after  the  plentiful  food  we  had  been 
enjoying,  this  was  exceedingly  scanty.  Had  we 
known  it,  hovv^ever,  even  this  was  considerably  more 
than  we  were  to  get  later. 

We  appreciated  the  fact  that  we  were  not  dis- 
'turbed,  but  were  left  pretty  much  to  ourselves  on 
the  journey.  We  saw  numbers  of  civilians  stand- 
ing round  the  various  stations  as  we  passed  through 
or  waited  in  sidings,  but  they  seemed  to  take  little 
notice  of  us.  They  all  had  a  depressed  and  hopeless 
look  and  no  doubt  were  suffering  too  much  them- 
selves to  think  of  worrying  the  prisoners  as  they  did 
earlier  in  the  war. 

One  interesting  point  in  that  trip,  or  rather  one 


86  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

which  would  have  been  interesting  in  other  circum- 
stances, was  the  considerable  time  we  spent  skirting 
the  huge  Krupp  plant  at  Essen  when,  for  hours  it 
seemed,  the  train  ran  through  long  rows  of  sheds 
and  factories  and  where  we  saw  thousands  of  chim- 
neys belching  smoke. 

Our  first  experiences  in  German  prison-camp  Hfe 
followed.  We  arrived  at  Diilmen  Camp  early  one 
morning  and  were  herded  at  once  into  a  big  enclosure 
where  we  were  searched  for  letters  and  other  papers. 
We  had,  however,  destroyed  all  letters  and  diaries 
which  might  have  afforded  any  information  so  they 
got  nothing  from  us.  I  had  decided  on  the  way  up 
from  the  front  that  it  would  be  better  to  dispense 
with  the  automatic  pistol  which  had  been  given  me 
on  the  day  we  were  captured,  and  so  dropped  it 
off  the  train.  It  was  well  that  I  did,  for,  had  it 
been  found  on  me  in  this  search,  I  should  certainly 
have  been  shot  without  compunction.  Having 
come  so  far,  more  or  less  safely,  we  made  up  our 
minds  that  life  was  worth  hanging  on  to  for  a  while 
yet.  By  this  time,  too,  we  were  beginning  to  get 
some  life  into  us  again,  after  the  stupefying  experi- 
ences of  that  terrible  day  on  the  battle  front. 

Naturall}"  we  examined  our  new  quarters  with  a 
good  deal  of  anxiety.  First,  we  were  impressed 
by  the  large  number  of  guards  which  seemed  to  be 
posted  everywhere,  providing  against  escape.  To 
this  provision  was  added  row  upon  row  of  barbed- 
wire  fence,  the  strands  fastened  closely  and  making  a 
barrier  about  sixteen  feet  high.  The  camp  was 
divided  into  three  sections  or  "blocks"  and  each 
of  these  again  subdivided  into  four,  so  that  the 
prisoners  could  be  kept  from  congregating  in  large 
numbers.  We  were  placed  in  Block  3,  which  was 
presumed    to    be    set    aside    exclusively    for   newly- 


THE  KAISER'S  MINIONS  87 

arrived  prisoners,  though  there  were  then  quite  a 
number  of  French  and  Russians  in  it  who  had  been 
interned  for  some  time.  Block  2  was  occupied  by 
convalescent  and  crippled  prisoners  and  Block  i  was 
allotted  to  men  who  had  been  in  Germany  some  con- 
siderable time.  Many  different  races  were  repre- 
sented. They  were  allowed  to  mix  freely  during  the 
day,  here,  but  were  separated — and  slept  in  different 
barracks — at  night. 

The  camp  was  built  on  the  shore  of  a  shallow, 
sandy  lake  or  slough  and  in  consequence  the  footing 
was  very  loose  and  dry,  the  sand  coming  over  the 
tops  of  our  boots  when  we  walked.  We  were  fairly 
well  pleased  with  the  barracks  here  for  they  were 
comparatively  new  and  were  clean  and  dry.  We  were 
told  afterward  by  longer-term  prisoners  that  they 
had  been  built  by  the  American  Red  Cross.  The 
beds  were  made  in  the  form  of  hammocks  of  woven 
rushes  stretched  on  wooden  frames  and  were  not  so 
bad  when  one  got  accustomed  to  them — and  after 
the  bunks  of  various  kinds  we  had  put  up  with  on 
the  line  and  in  billets  in  Flanders.  For  covering 
we  were  given  two  blankets  apiece  but  they  were  so 
old  and  so  thin  that  they  gave  little  warmth. 

At  first,  however,  most  of  our  party,  being 
wounded,  were  placed  in  a  hospital  barrack  where 
we  were  looked  after  by  British  and  French  Red 
Cross  men  and  by  a  French  doctor,  all  of  whom  had 
been  captured  some  time  before.  Naturally  we  got 
good  treatment  from  them,  but  we  were  examined 
frequently  by  German  doctors  who  pronounced  on 
our  fitness  for  work  and  were  turned  out  of  the  hos- 
pital at  the  earliest  possible  moment,  almost  before 
we  could  walk  straight. 

It  was  very  evident  that  even  at  this  time  the 
Germans  were  short  of  medicines  and  material  for 


88  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

bandages.  All  the  bandages  used  on  us  were  made 
from  paper,  and  very  poor  stuft'  at  that.  One  thing 
they  did  well  here,  however — the  matter  of  inocula- 
tion. I  was  given  seven  "doses" — providing  against 
almost  every  known  disease — before  I  finally  passed 
as  "finished";  and  they  proved  exceedingly  effective. 
Had  it  not  been  for  that  treatment  we  should  cer- 
tainly have  been  exterminated  by  cholera  which 
would  have  been  sure  to  develop  amid  the  conditions 
we  experienced  later. 

Naturally,  too,  we  were  interested  in  the  camp 
rations.  Here  also  was  reflected  the  lack  of  supplies 
in  Germany.  A  review  of  the  daily  allowance  v/ill 
adequately  illustrate  this. 

For  breakfast  we  were  given  a  bowl  of  coffee  or 
cocoa  (so-called)  or  a  sort  of  soup  made  from  bones 
ground  into  a  fine  dust.  The  "coffee"  was  merely 
acorns,  burned  and  ground.  The  "cocoa" — like- 
wise a  very  poor  substitute — ^was  made  from  the 
bark  of  some  tree  and  was  tasteless  and  devoid  of 
nourishment.  No  solids  were  allowed  at  breakfast, 
though  one  was  supposed  to  have  saved  some  of 
the  bread  ration  handed  out  the  night  before. 

For  the  noon  "repast"  we  were  usually  given  a 
bowl  of  soup  made  from  ground  and  dried  vegetables. 
Later  I  had  the  opportunity  of  finding  out  how  this 
stuff  was  made.  It  came  to  us  as  a  gritty,  dirty 
mess  about  as  thick  as  gruel,  thinner  when  the  supply 
was  not  large. 

About  four  o'clock  the  daily  bread  ration  was 
served.  This  was  a  chunk  of  vegetable  concoction 
a  little  less  than  a  third  of  a  pound,  supposed  to 
provide  solid  food  for  twenty-four  hours.  The  vege- 
table liour  which  from  this  so-called  bread  was 
made  was  mixed  with  just  enough  wheat  or  rye 
flour  to  make  the  mass  stick  together.     The  loaves 

♦ 


THE  ICAISER'S  MINIONS  89 

came  out  of  the  oven  the  same  size  they  went  in 
and  the  stuff  was  heavy,  sour,  black,  and  bitter — 
so  vile  and  strong  that  it  seemed  to  burn  our  stom- 
achs. 

Sometimes  we  found  bits  of  strong,  odorous  meat 
in  the  soup  and  this  the  French  cooks  told  us  was 
dog  meat.  We  usually  knew  when  this  v\^as  coming 
for  we  could  see  the  cooks  with  white  towels  tied 
over  their  faces  to  keep  out  the  odour  while  the 
stew  was  being  prepared.  One  day  Wallie  and  I, 
who  had  managed  to  stick  together,  picked  all  the 
bones  out  of  a  potful  of  soup  and,  sorting  them  out 
carefully,  managed  to  piece  together  the  skeleton  of 
a  German  dachshund.  We  kept  this  and  brought 
it  out  every  time  "Soup  up"  v/as  called,  hoping  to 
drive  some  other  prisoners  away  from  the  soup  but 
with  little  success. 

Supper  consisted  usually  of  another  bowl  of  soup 
made  from  something  resembling  cornmeal  but  with 
scarcely  any  body  in  it,  and  which,  like  the  rest, 
was  thin  and  lacking  in  any  nourishing  qualities. 
The  Tommies  had,  for  some  reason  or  other,  probably 
because  it  resembled  sand  more  than  anything  else, 
dubbed  this  "sandstorm."  In  addition  to  this  we 
were  given  half  a  salt  herring  once  or  twice  a  week. 
These,  too,  were  often  putrid  but  they  were  never 
thrown  away. 

It  will  be  evident  that  this  allowance,  particularly 
when  most  of  the  food  was  unpalatable  and  indiges- 
tible, was  not  enough  to  keep  us  from  starvation. 
For  a  time  we  were  in  a  veiy  bad  way  indeed. 
Later,  when  our  parcels  began  to  arrive,  this  con- 
dition was  much  relieved  but  for  a  good  while  we 
saw  nothing  of  a  parcel  of  any  kind.  The  French 
prisoners  in  our  block — ^who  had  been  there  long 
enough  to  have  had  regular  communication  estab- 


90  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

lished  with  their  Red  Cross  and  who  were  in  conse- 
quence getting  more  or  less  regular  supplies  of  food — 
often  took  advantage  of  this  to  get  hold  of  our  great 
coats,  boots,  or  anything  else  they  fancied,  in  return 
for  a  pittance  of  food,  biscuits,  cigarettes,  or  tobacco. 
I  actually  saw  one  half-starved  Canadian  boy  trade 
off  his  great  coat  for  one  cigarette  and  the  French- 
man went  back  to  his  barracks  with  his  prize,  laugh- 
ing heartily. 

The  Russians,  on  the  other  hand,  were  different. 
The  fellows  in  our  block  then,  while  almost  starving 
themselves  (since  no  parcels  were  coming  through 
to  them),  were  very  kind  to  us.  They  went  into 
Blocks  Number  i  and  2  every  day  to  dispose  of 
the  swill  and  to  do  other  odd  jobs,  and  the  British 
prisoners  there — who,  like  the  French,  had  parcels 
arriving  more  or  less  regularly — gave  them  their 
German  rations,  which  they  shared  with  us.  These 
British  prisoners  sent  us  some  of  the  stuff  from  their 
parcels  when  they  could,  and  while  it  didn't  amount 
to  much,  without  it  most  of  us  couldn't  have  existed 
until  our  own  parcels  arrived. 

I  have  to  shudder  now  when  I  think  to  what 
depths  of  misery  and  degradation  the  hunger  of 
those  days  drove  us.  Every  night,  when  the  garbage 
pails  were  put  outside  the  kitchen  to  be  emptied,  we 
gathered  round  and  fought  for  the  horrible  refuse 
that  was  thrown  out  after  the  preparation  of  that 
vile  food.  Some  of  the  finest  fellows  I  ever  met 
became  like  wild  beasts  at  times  under  such  dreadful 
conditions,  and  if  our  parcels  had  not  come  along  ulti-, 
mately  we  would  certainly  have  become  cannibals. 

While  we  were  isolated  for  some  time  after  arriving 
in  the  camp  we  were  able  to  exchange  signals  occa- 
sionally, using  the  regular  army  code,  with  the 
British   prisoners   in   the   other   blocks.     Of  course 


THE  KAISER'S  MINIONS  91 

this  had  to  be  done  surreptitiously;  if  we  had  been 
caught  the  penalty  would  have  been  heavy.  Among 
others  we  were  a  good  deal  puzzled  at  one  message 
which  came  to  us  soon  after  our  arrival:  "Watch 
old  Stiffy."  The  message  was  repeated  over  and 
over  as  if  to  drill  it  into  our  memories. 

The  puzzle  was  solved  one  morning,  however, 
when  a  very  strange  figure  made  his  way  into  the 
camp.  He  was  a  German  of  about  fifty  years,  I 
should  say,  and  had  been  afflicted  by  a  paralytic 
stroke  so  that  every  joint  in  his  body  seemed  stiff. 
Since  he  could  bend  neither  knees,  neck,  nor  back, 
he  was  forced  to  shuffle  along  with  a  most  peculiar 
walk,  much  resembling  that  made  famous  by  Charlie 
Chaplin.  To  add  to  his  pecuhar  appearance  he 
wore  a  high  top  hat  with  his  civilian  clothes.  But 
if  his  body  was  stiff  his  brain  was  the  very  reverse. 
He  had  spent  years  in  England,  the  United  States, 
and  other  countries  and  spoke  English  fluently. 
With  a  great  show  of  friendliness  he  came  among  us 
trying  to  make  us  think  he  was  a  friend  and  hinting 
that  he  was  acting  under  the  direction  of  the  Ameri- 
cans to  improve  our  conditions.  He  was  very 
plausible  and  probably  might  have  gained  some  of 
the  information  he  was  looking  for  had  we  not  been 
warned.  As  it  was  I'm  afraid  he  was  "out  of  luck." 
We  found  out  later  that  he  was  a  veteran  spy  of  the 
Kaiser's  personal  staff  and  one  of  the  parasites  who 
made  the  far-reaching  German  spy  system  possible. 
When  our  turn  came  a  little  later  to  do  the  signalling 
to  other  new  arrivals  we  changed  the  name,  for  one 
more  significant,  and  signalled  the  message:  "Watch 
old  Charlie  Chaplin." 


CHAPTER  VII 

Starvation  Conditions  in  Dulmen 

The  starvation  of  those  days  was  bad  enough  but 
worse  was  to  follow.  When  we  were  pronounced 
able  to  leave  the  hospital  we  were  taken  out  every 
two  or  three  days  to  work  on  the  prison  farm  and 
at  other  so-called  light  jobs  around  the  country. 
Since  we  were  so  v/eak  from  lack  of  proper  nourish- 
ment that  we  could  scarcely  walk,  this  was  pretty 
tough.  To  avoid  work  we  often  tried  to  hide  away 
in  the  barracks  but  the  guards  were  relentless,  as  we 
found  all  German  guards  to  be,  and  no  matter  how 
sick  or  weak  we  might  be  we  were  dragged  out  and 
driven  like  cattle  down  the  road. 

We  had  made  up  our  minds  that  the  Germans 
were  not  going  to  benefit  any  more  than  we  could 
help  by  our  presence  in  the  country,  a  policy  that 
British  prisoners  adopted  early  in  the  war  and  have 
ever  since  carried  out.  Our  first  chance  to  put 
this  into  operation  came  when  we  were  put  to  work 
setting  out  cabbage  plants  on  the  prison  farm. 
When  doing  this  we  would  pinch  the  tender  plants 
with  the  thumb  nail  just  at  the  junction  of  the  root 
and  the  stalk  and  inevitably  after  this  treatment  the 
plant  died.  You  can  imagine  how  surprised  the 
Germans  were  the  first  time  this  was  done,  to  find 
the  plants,  the  morning  after  they  were  planted, 
all  withered  and  dead. 

When  they  found  they  couldn't  trust  us  at  this 

92 


CONDITIONS  IN  DULMEN  93 

sort  of  work  our  places  were  taken  by  the  French 
who  pursued  a  more  peaceful  policy.  Then  we  were 
set  at  cutting  heather  on  the  big  moors  a  couple  of 
miles  from  camp.  After  cutting,  the  crop  was 
wheeled  on  barrows  to  a  big  press,  there  made  up 
into  bales,  and  then  shipped  away  by  rail. 

Here  we  got  our  first  understanding  of  the  bad 
feeling  which  existed  everywhere  between  the  civil- 
ians and  the  mihtary.  While  we  were  under  guards, 
the  work  was  managed  and  directed  by  a  civihan  who 
owned  the  property  and  the  crop  and  who  drove  us 
mercilessly  to  get  as  much  as  possible  out  of  us. 
The  guards  disliked  the  idea  of  being  under  the  di- 
rection of  a  civilian  and  refused  in  consequence  to 
drive  us  as  he  wished,  though  they  were  careful  to 
let  us  know  that  this  was  not  by  reason  of  any 
kindly  feeHngs  toward  us. 

The  idea  of  escape  had  been  always  uppermost  with 
Nicholson  and  me  ever  since  we  realized  that  we  were 
prisoners.  And  this  grew  with  our  work  on  the 
moors  where  we  were  not  particularly  closely  guarded. 
Had  we  been  strong  enough  we  would  certainly 
have  made  an  attem.pt  then,  for  we  had  found  by 
careful  inquiry  that  the  camp  was  in  the  province 
of  Westphalia  about  eighteen  miles  due  east  of  a  point 
on  the  Dutch  frontier.  Some  of  the  older  prisoners 
even  showed  us  on  a  map  they  had  somehow  got 
hold  of  the  exact  location  of  the  place,  and  one  or 
two  prisoners  in  Block  i  who  had  made  an  attempt 
to  escape  told  us  of  three  windmills  set  in  a  direct 
hne  with  that  frontier  point.  After  that  Wallie 
and  I  used  to  gaze  longingly  out  over  the  moor  to 
where  the  first  of  these  windmills  could  be  picked 
out  on  the  top  of  a  hill  some  five  miles  to  the  west. 
How  we  longed  and  even  prayed  for  the  long-promised 
parcels  which  would  give  us  the  strength  at  least  to 


94  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

make  an  attempt  to  reach  the  Border.  As  it  was, 
we  had  good  opportunities  for  escape,  but  the  care- 
lessness of  the  guards  was  easily  explained  by  the 
fact  that  they  knew  quite  as  well  as  we  did  that  we 
hadn't  the  necessary  strength  for  the  undertaking. 
Attempts,  several  of  them,  were  to  be  made  later, 
however.  And  I  kept  on  trying  until  success  finally 
materialized. 

Aside  from  the  hope  of  escape,  however,  we  had 
good  news  from  other  sources  which  helped  to  keep 
us  buoyed  up.  Not  long  after  the  date  of  our  cap- 
ture the  British  and  French  offensive  on  the  Somme 
began  and  every  few  days  a  small  bunch  of  new 
prisoners  came  in.  Invariably  they  had  the  same 
story  to  tell — that  everything  was  going  splendidl}'^ 
but  that  they  had  advanced  too  far  and  had  been 
cut  off.  They  were  very  optimistic  as  to  the  general 
outlook  and  as  a  result  we  all  expected  the  war  to  be 
over  and  all  of  us  home  in  the  fall. 

It  was  interesting  to  see  the  difference  in  the 
condition  of  the  British  as  compared  with  the 
French  prisoners  on  arrival. 

The  French  arrived  almost  daily  and  in  fairly 
large  numbers.  Sometimes  whole  detachments  came 
in  from  the  same  battalion.  They  usually  had  their 
great  coats  and  a  large  part  of  their  equipment 
and,  in  the  majority  of  cases,  showed  little  evidence 
of  having  been  in  a  scrap.  Most  of  them  were 
smiling  and  happy,  apparently  very  well  pleased  to 
be  out  of  the  war. 

On  the  other  hand,  very  few  British  prisoners 
arrived,  and  these  were  made  up  of  men  from  every 
battalion  on  the  section  of  the  line  they  had  been 
covering.  Many  of  them  wounded,  bloody,  ragged, 
and  half  dead  with  fatigue,  they  looked  like  men  who 
had  given  every  ounce  of  their  strength  till  they 


CONDITIONS  IN  DULMEN  95 

collapsed.  Instead  of  being  content  tliey  were 
invariably  depressed  and  chagrined  at  their  mis- 
fortune. 

In  July  about  three  hundred  French  Moroccan 
troops  arrived.  Wallie  described  them  as:  "Real 
savages,  black  as  the  ace  of  spades."  It  was  rather 
pathetic  to  watch  them  for  they  couldn't  under- 
stand why  they  were  shut  up  in  the  enclosure  or 
why  they  shouldn't  be  fed.  Even  these  fellows 
had  their  ideas  of  escape  when  they  discovered 
the  location  of  the  camp;  as  we  learned  a  little  time 
later. 

One  day  when  I  was  out  with  a  working  party 
some  distance  from  the  camp  one  of  the  boys  sud- 
denly dropped  as  though  struck  by  lightning  and 
the  report  of  a  rifle  from  the  camp  followed.  Ex- 
amination showed  that  a  bullet  had  grazed  his  fore- 
head. Fortunately  no  serious  injury  was  caused 
and  after  a  little  time  he  came  around  all  right. 
When  we  got  back  to  the  camp  we  found  that  one 
of  the  Moroccans  had  made  his  escape;  a  bullet 
fired  after  him  by  one  of  the  guards  had  accidentally 
found  our  party.  The  black  was  away  all  night, 
but  as  was  almost  invariably  the  case,  was  caught 
and  brought  back  later. 

We  had  scarcely  expected  to  meet  members  of 
the  British  navy  in  the  camps,  but  when  we  found 
how  cosmopolitan  the  personnel  of  the  prisoners' 
camp  was,  nothing  much  would  have  surprised  us. 
In  the  middle  of  that  summer,  shortly  after  the 
Battle  of  Jutland,  some  survivors  who  had  been 
picked  up  when  their  vessel  had  been  sunk  were 
brought  in  and  placed  in  the  adjacent  compound. 
They  were  lively  fellows,  full  of  mischief  as  any  sailor 
could  be  and  delighted  in  tormenting  the  guards 
when  this  could  be  done  with  any  likelihood  of  safety. 


96  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

One  day  one  of  these  Jackies  threw  a  rubber  ball 
(used  by  the  Frenchmen  for  some  sort  of  game),  and 
hit  a  guard  who  stood  on  the  other  side  of  the  wire 
fence.  That  was  a  crime  of  the  deepest  dye  and  the 
guard  accordingly — ^to  use  Jack's  ov/n  description — 
came  into  the  compound  and  "raised  hell."  When 
he  couldn't  find  the  culprit  he  reported  the  matter 
to  the  commandant.  As  a  result  all  the  sailors  were 
put  under  punishment  and  kept  standing  at  attention 
for  hours  while  attempts  were  made  to  get  the  guilty 
one  to  confess.  The  man  responsible  wanted  to 
give  himself  up  right  away  but  the  others  determined 
to  stick  together  and  to  "stick  it  out."  In  the  end, 
despite  protestations,  he  broke  away  and  proclaimed 
himself.  He  was  sentenced  to  stand  at  attention, 
under  guard,  with  his  face  to  the  wall  in  a  sentry  box, 
for  twenty-four  hours.  But  the  guard  who  had  made 
the  complaint  had  to  stand  and  watch  him,  this 
provision  apparently  being  made  to  remind  him  that 
he  should  not  trouble  his  superiors  with  small 
offences,  but  deal  with  them  himself  according  to 
the  approved  German  methods. 

One  thing  which  humiliated  us  a  good  deal  in 
the  camps  was  that  we  were  ordered  to  salute  the 
*'  Unteroffi7,iers'*  (corporals  and  sergeants)  and  '^Feld- 
zvebels"  (sergeant-majors),  as  well  as  the  higher 
officers.  The  Canadians  were  not  strong  on  salut- 
ing an^'^vhere.  We  had  been  in  continual  trouble 
on  this  point  in  England.  But  for  us  to  salute  a 
lot  of  dirty,  ignorant,  German  savages!  Well,  we 
did  so  only  when  there  was  no  way  of  getting  out 
of  it  and  were  frequently  punished  in  consequence. 

One  day,  just  after  I  had  been  discharged  from 
hospital,  I  was  wandering  round  in  the  compound, 
half  starved  and  paying  no  attention  to  any  one, 
when  a  loud,  harsh  voice  behind  me  drew  my  atten- 


CONDITIONS  IN  DULMEN  97 

tion.  When  I  turned  round,  there,  just  outside  the 
fence,  was  a  little,  stubby,  old  German  general,  his 
moustache  sticking  up  on  either  side  like  horns, 
waving  his  highly  poHshed  sword  over  his  head  and 
frothing  at  the  mouth  with  rage.  Not  dreaming 
that  I  was  the  innocent  cause  of  his  excitement  I 
started  to  laugh  and  only  when  he  began  to  make 
a  run  for  the  gate  to  get  into  the  compound  did  I 
reahze  that  he  was  after  me  for  failing  to  salute. 
Discretion,  here,  was  certainly  the  better  part  of 
valour  and  I  was  able  to  get  into  the  barracks  and 
hide  away  before  he  got  inside  the  compound. 

A  few  days  later  a  couple  of  the  British  prisoners 
in  the  next  compound  were  similarly  neglectful  when 
this  old  martinet  was  around  and,  to  add  to  the  insult, 
one  of  our  Canadian  boys — who  was  amused  at  the 
old  chap's  excited  "barking" — began  to  imitate 
him.  That  was  an  absolutely  unpardonable  sin  and, 
in  consequence,  the  whole  camp  was  put  under  pun- 
ishment. We  were  stood  in  long  rows  along  the 
fences  and  everything  possible  was  done  to  get 
hold  of  the  offender.  In  this  case  nobody  sympa- 
thized with  the  chaps  who  had  been  so  indiscreet 
because  they  had  well  known  what  the  consequences 
would  be  and  they  were  soon  persuaded  to  give 
themselves  up.  They  were  sentenced  to  three 
weeks  in  the  "black  cells"  on  a  ration  of  bread  and 
water. 

An  ,out-of-the-ordinary  event  while  we  were  in 
Block  3  at  Diilmen  Camp  was  the  visit  of  the  Ameri» 
can  Ambassador  Mr.  Gerard.  The  camp  was 
cleaned  up  previous  to  his  visit  and  the  soup  showed 
a  marked  improvement  for  that  day.  When  he 
arrived  we  were  lined  up,  four  deep,  while  he  talked 
to  us  for  a  few  minutes.  He  told  us  he  had  been 
sent  by  his  Government  to  see  whether  he  could  do 


98  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

anything  to  improve  conditions  for  us  and  to  take 
any  complaints  we  had  to  make.  The  all-important 
question  with  us  just  then  was  food  and  we  com- 
plained of  the  scarcity  and  quality  of  the  stuff  given 
us,  telling  him — what  he  could  plainly  see  himself — 
that  we  were  starving. 

.  *T  will  see  what  I  can  do,"  he  said;  "but  I  am 
afraid  you  must  not  expect  much.  Your  parcels 
will  soon  be  coming  and  then  you  will  be  all  right.'* 

"But  we  are  absolutely  starving,'*  some  of  the 
boys  insisted.  "We  will  all  die  if  our  parcels  do 
not  come  soon.** 

With  this,  several  officers  who  accompanied  him 
intervened,  apparently  trying  to  explain  that  the 
food  was  all  it  ought  to  be,  considering  the  circum- 
stances. Mr.  Gerard  was  not  allowed  to  speak  to  us 
alone  and,  I  have  no  doubt,  was  a  good  deal  ham- 
pered, for  German  officers  listened  closely  to  every- 
thing he  had  to  say  and  to  any  remarks  we  made, 
so  that  any  one  complaining  of  ill-treatment  might 
be  punished  later.  After  renewing  his  promise 
to  do  what  he  could  he  left  the  camp.  Whatever 
he  may  have  tried  to  do  it  had  no  appreciable  result, 
since  matters  continued  in  the  same  old  way.  It 
was  obvious  that  the  Geramns  held  both  him  and 
his  country  in  contempt  and  that  this  visit  was 
allowed  only  as  a  matter  of  form. 

A  few  days  later  wild  excitement  prevailed  when  a 
load  of  parcels  arrived,  naturally  stirring  up  great 
expectations. 

By  that  time  we  were  so  badly  off  that  we  often 
lapsed  into  a  sort  of  stupor.  Nicholson  was  lying 
in  his  hammock,  in  this  condition,  more  dead  than 
alive,  when  the  news  arrived. 

"Come  on,  Wallie,**  I  said,  shaking  him  into  con- 
sciousness.    "Come  alive,  old  man.     Parcels  up,*' 


One  side  of  a  postal  sent  from  Friedrichsfelde  Camp 


Unloading  Red  Cross  parcels  at  FriedrK-lisfekle  Camp 


CONDITIONS  IN  DULMEN  99 

At  the  word  "parcels"  he  sat  up,  eagerly. 

"Anything  for  us,  Mac?" 

"I  don't  know.     Let's  go  and  see." 

Crawling  out  of  his  hammock  he  made  his  way 
with  me  slowly  along  toward  the  fence  where  a  dense 
crowd  was  gathering.  As  we  struggled  along,  we 
must  have  looked  like  a  pair  of  walking  skeletons. 
The  delivery  wagons  were  drawn  up  alongside  the 
fence  and  we  formed  a  long  line,  passing  the 
parcels  from  hand  to  hand  along  to  the  sorting  room, 
every  man  trying  desperately  to  see  the  name 
on  each  parcel  as  it  passed  through  his  hands  while 
hundreds  of  hungry,  wolfish  eyes  glared  at  the 
bundles  of  food  as  though  they  could  look  through 
them. 

A  couple  of  hours  later  tickets  were  issued  to  those 
to  whom  consignments  had  been  sent.  I  think  it 
was  one  of  the  bitterest  disappointments  of  my  life 
when  I  found  there  was  nothing  for  either  Wallie 
or  myself. 

We  dragged  ourselves  back  to  our  hammocks  and 
lay  for  hours  without  a  sound.  Then  with  charac- 
teristic grit  Wallie  turned  to  me  and  said,  hopelessly, 
as  though  he  didn't  believe  it  himself: 

"Never  mind,  old  pal.  We've  been  through  Hell 
together  before  and  come  out  safely.  We'll  pull 
through  this,  too.  We're  sure  to  get  a  parcel  to- 
morrow." But  a  good  many  to-morrows  went  by 
before  we  were  favoured. 

Things  did  look  up  a  little  when  we  were  moved 
into  Block  i  and  the  prisoners  there  who  had  had 
parcels  coming  for  some  time  gave  us  their  German 
rations  and  anything  else  they  could  spare.  The 
chaps  who  could  put  their  pride  in  their  pockets, 
and  systematically  begged  from  the  few  who  had 
food,  got  along  fairly  well,  but  Wallie  and  I  found  it 


loo  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

hard  to  beg,  even  in  starvation.  When  nothing  else 
offered  we  hung  around  the  garbage  pails  and  boxes 
and  picked  the  best  bits  from  the  refuse.  When 
occasionally  a  piece  of  mouldy  bread  was  brought 
to  light  it  was  considered  a  great  find. 

Such  provision  as  was  made  for  communication 
with  the  outside  world  was  meagre  and  very  closely 
guarded.  We  w^ere  allowed,  for  instance,  to  write 
a  postal  card  once  a  week  and  a  letter  every  two 
weeks.  These  were  held  in  the  camp  for  about  three 
weeks  before  being  posted,  the  reason  given  for  this 
being  that  it  was  necessary  to  provide  for  the  evapora- 
tion of  any  invisible  ink  which  might  have  been  used. 
Again,  there  were  most  careful  restrictions  on  what 
we  wrote.  Everything  had  to  be  large,  clear,  and 
distinct.  We  could  not,  under  any  consideration, 
make  mention  of  the  conditions  in  the  camp — ad- 
versely, that  is — or  complain  of  the  food.  Indeed 
w^e  saw  long  sentences  imposed  on  prisoners  who 
attempted  to  get  some  idea  of  the  truth  to  their 
friends.  While  we  m.ight  ask  for  parcels  we  were 
not  allowed  ever  to  suggest  that  food  was  really 
needed. 

Naturally  these  restrictions  gave  rise  to  a  good 
deal  of  ingenuity  to  evade  them.  One  lad,  for  in- 
stance, writing  home,  spoke  of  the  lovely  camp,  the 
kind  guardsy  and  the  good  food,  but  in  the  last  para- 
graph made  inquiries  somewhat  as  follows: 

I  say,  dad,  have  you  seen  my  old  school  chum,  W.  E.  R. 
Starving  ?  I  haven't  heard  anything  of  him  for  a  long 
time. 

The  Germans  saw  nothing  wrong,  but  I  have  often 
wondered  what  feelings  were  stirred  up  in  that  home 
when  his  letter  was  read. 


CONDITIONS  IN  DtJLMEN  loi 

In  one  of  my  own  letters  home  about  this  time  I 
said: 

''^  This  is  a  most  beautiful  country.  The  German  people 
are  kind  and  thoughtful  and  I  am  having  a  splendid  time. 
In  fact,  I  have  never  been  treated  quite  the  same  since 
the  summer  I  spent  in  St07iy  Mountain.  But  I  do  miss 
poor  old  Chuck.  I  am  afraid  he  has  been  killed.  I 
haven't  seen  him  since  the  day  I  was  taken  prisoner. 

The  allusion  to  the  well-known  Manitoba  peni- 
tentiary was  quite  lost  on  the  German  censor  who 
probably  thought  it  was  a  popular  Canadian  summer 
resort  and  that  Chuck  was  a  friend.  So  he  was  and 
lived  in  my  mother's  pantry.  My  people  at  home 
understood  and  wrote  back  that  they  were  sorry 
about  Poor  Chuck  but  thought  he  might  still  be 
alive. 

It  was  not  surprising,  perhaps,  that  the  first  par- 
cels coming  to  us  were  anything  but  what  we  needed. 
We  never  thought  of  telling  our  friends  what  to  send, 
and  in  consequence  they  forwarded  the  sam.e  stuff 
they  had  been  sending  on  to  France — chewing  gum, 
chocolate,  candy,  fruit,  cakes,  etc. — and  sometimes 
clothing,  books,  or  perishable  food,  v/hich  last-men- 
tioned was,  without  exception,  destroyed  by  the 
guards.  They  feared  that  in  our  starving  condi- 
tion we  might  have  been  poisoned  by  this  bad  food 
and  any  prisoner  who  was  not  too  badly  crippled  to 
do  some  sort  of  work  was  too  valuable  to  be  allowed 
to  poison  himself. 

Despite  all  these  hard  and  trying  things  the  life 
of  the  camp  v.  as  not  without  its  humours,  which 
helped  to  keep  us  from  going  insane.  One  source 
of  amusement  was  Evans's  barber  shop.  *'Slim" 
Evans — a  tall  Oshawa   (Ont.)   boy,  from  the  4th 


I02  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

C.  M.  R.'s,  who  was  captured  the  same  day  we  were, 
and  who  had  been  in  about  every  corner  of  North 
America  and  tried  his  hand  at  almost  every  trade — 
hunted  up  an  old  razor  from  some  unknown  spot  and 
appointed  himself  barber  for  Block  3.  There  were 
two  or  three  barbers  in  other  blocks,  who  escaped 
other  work  by  looking  after  the  prisoners'  tonsorial 
requirements. 

Hearing  this  news,  Wallie  and  I  wandered  down  to 
see  about  getting  a  shave.  Of  course  we  had  no 
other  way  of  getting  our  faces  clean  until  our  parcels 
later  brought  us  razors  and  other  necessities.  "  Slim" 
had  set  up  his  "chair" — a  board  propped  up  against 
a  table — and  had  a  customer  in  it  when  we  got  there, 
while  a  group  of  five  or  six,  with  strained,  frightened 
expressions,  watched  the  wild  flourishes  of  Slim's 
razor  and  the  awful  look  of  fear  and  anguish  on  the 
face  of  his  victim. 

I  had  grown  quite  a  long,  black  beard  by  this  time 
which  bristled  out  on  my  thin,  wasted  face  like  a 
barbed-wire  entanglement. 

/'Hello,  kid,"  said  Slim  (ever>^body  was  "Kid" 
with  him),  when  he  ran  his  eyes  over  my  beard; 
you  re  next. 

Wallie  and  I  looked  on  for  a  while  but  the  first 
time  Slim's  back  was  turned,  we  slipped  out.  I 
visited  the  "shop"  every  day  after  that,  to  meet 
Evans's  broad  grin  at  sight  of  my  beard,  but  when 
my  turn  was  near  at  hand  my  courage  failed  me  and 
I  wore  my  beard  till  the  Red  Cross  parcel,  with  a 
shaving  outfit,  came  along. 

Nicholson  and  I  were  not  alone  in  our  longing  to 
escape.  I  think  the  so-much-talked  -of  initiative  in 
our  Canadian  boys  was  as  much  evident  in  this  thing 
as  in  anything  else.  While  the  British  prisoners  were 
ready  to  fight  the  guards  they  did  not  display  the  same 


CONDITIONS  IN  DULMEN  103 

eagerness  to  get  away  as  did  our  Canadian  lads. 
Possibly  the  fact  that  most  of  us  had  been  more 
or  less  used  to  the  open  had  something  to  do  with  it. 

The  first  attempt  we  directly  knew  of  among  our 
own  boys  occurred  shortly  before  we  left  Diilmen, 
when  some  of  the  prisoners  in  Block  i  who  had  been 
in  the  camp  long  enough  to  get  regular  parcels  and 
were  therefore  not  so  weak  from  hunger  as  we  were 
started  to  dig  a  tunnel,  hoping  to  drive  through  under 
the  fence  and  come  up  outside.  Jack  O'Brien — a 
fine  Irish-Canadian  lad,  whom  I  got  to  know  better 
later,  since  he  finally  escaped  with  me — was  one  of 
the  party.  Their  plan  was  all  right  but  they  did 
not  figure  on  the  trickiness  of  the  Westphalian  sand 
and,  just  as  they  were  about  to  break  through  one 
evening,  the  tunnel  collapsed  under  the  weight  of  a 
guard  whose  beat  led  him  over  the  spot.  While  the 
tunnellers  were  not  caught  the  episode  caused  a  good 
deal  of  excitement  in  camp  and  a  considerable  tight- 
ening of  discipline. 

But  our  stay  at  Diilmen  was  drawing  to  a  close. 
After  what  seemed  a  terribly  long  time  a  couple  of 
those  precious  parcels  did  arrive  and  we  began  to 
look  forward  to  a  little  relief  from  the  starving  pro- 
cess we  had  been  undergoing.  Then  one  night  Wal- 
lie  and  I  were  warned  to  go  out  next  day  with  a  work- 
ing party,  with  about  fifty  other  Canadians.  The 
story  ran  that  we  were  to  work  on  a  farm,  and,  as  we 
had  heard  that  conditions  were  better  at  this  class 
of  work  than  in  an  industrial  plant,  we  were  naturally 
somewhat  jubilant.  Our  hopes,  however,  weiie  very 
rudely  dashed. 

When  we  were  packing  up  what  little  stuff  we  had 
been  able  to  get  together  during  our  stay  in  the  camp 
one  of  the  Canadian  boys  who  had  been  there  some 
time  and  knew  a  good  deal  of  conditions,  came  in. 


I04  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 


<«' 


Hello,  going  on  kommando  ?"  he  asked. 
'Yes;  going  on  a  farm,"  Wallie  answered. 

"A  farm?"  he  said;  "what  a  hope!"  And  he 
laughed  a  little,  bitter  laugh. 

And  it  transpired  that  this  story  of  the  farm  was 
always  palmed  off  on  the  prisoners  so  that  they 
would  be  more  ready  to  leave  the  camp.  When  the 
British  prisoners  knew  what  was  coming  and  thought 
that  they  were  to  be  sent  out  to  work  in  some  indus- 
try— most  of  which  were  famous  (or  infamous)  for 
the  conditions  of  abuse  and  slavery  existent  there — 
they  would  frequently  refuse  to  go. 

When  such  a  case  occurred  things  were  unpleas- 
antly exciting  around  the  camp  for  a  while.  Usually 
the  guards  in  their  rage  would  lay  about  them  with 
the  butts  of  their  rifles  and  kick  the  poor  objectors 
all  over  the  place.  Prisoners  of  splendid  physique — 
who,  singly,  would  have  been  a  match  for  half  a 
dozen  of  the  semi-cripples  we  had  for  guards — had 
to  submit  to  this  sort  of  treatment  though  it  nearly 
drove  them  mad  to  do  so.  To  have  raised  a  finger 
in  self-defence  would  have  meant  certain  and  immedi- 
ate death. 

If,  as  was  usually  the  case,  this  method  of  abuse 
did  not  prove  effective,  the  prisoners  were  given  a 
dose  of  standing  to  Attention,  one  of  the  m.ost-used 
German  punishments.  This  meant  standing  stiffly, 
without  moving  a  muscle,  for  hours,  usually  in  either 
the  hot  sun  or  the  freezing  cold.  No  one  who  has 
not  been  through  it  can  imagine  the  exquisite  agony 
it  entails. 

In  cases  like  this  an  officer  was  usually  called  who 
would  select  the  spot  where  each  prisoner  was  to 
stand,  and  there  place  him,  keeping  up  a  volley  of 
oaths  and  abuse  of  the  worst  imaginable  kind.  If  a 
prisoner  did  not  move  quickly  enough  to  suit  him 


CONDITIONS  IN  DULMEN  105 

he  was  certain  to  get  a  blow  over  the  head  or  face 
with  the  flat  of  the  officer's  sword. 

This  attitude  of  Attention  was  kept  up  for  hour 
after  hour  till  human  limits  began  to  be  reached. 
After  about  twelve  hours,  depending  on  one's  physi- 
cal condition  and  the  weather,  the  weakest  would 
faint  and  would  pitch  over  on  his  face  on  the  ground. 
Here  he  would  lie,  while  the  guards  walked  up  and 
down,  every  once  in  a  while  administering  a  kick  or 
a  poke  with  a  rifle.  When  the  first  sign  of  returning 
life  appeared  he  would  be  jerked  to  his  feet  and  the 
query  ''^Arbeit?"  (work?)  shot  at  him.  If  he  said 
"No"  he  was  stood  up  in  the  line  again  and  the  whole 
process  repeated.  If  any  one  tried  to  get  relief 
by  moving  hand  or  foot  he  was  knocked  down  with  a 
rifle  butt  and  stood  up  again  as  soon  as  he  was  physi- 
cally able  to  stand.  If,  as  often  happened,  the  pris- 
oners held  out  more  than  twenty-four  hours  the 
guards  would  start  on  the  first  row  and,  beginning 
with  the  first  man,  would  ask  if  he  was  now  ready  to 
work. 

"No;  damned  if  I  w^ill,"  was  usually  the  answer 
from  our  boys. 

With  this  he  was  knocked  or  kicked  out  of  the  line, 
hammered  into  unconsciousness,  and  dragged  away 
to  solitary  confinement  on  a  scant  bread-and-water 
ration  in  dark  cells.  This  treatment  was  given  each 
man  in  turn  until  the  remainder,  sick  with  the 
sight,  would  give  in  and  march  off"  to  work  as  di- 
rected. It  was  an  infallible  process,  but  surely  no 
fiend  could  invent  a  more  terrible  method  of  carrying 
out  his  will. 

For  various  reasons,  few  British  prisoners  were 
trusted  on  the  farms.  In  the  first  place,  the  work 
could  not  be  carried  out  in  gangs  and  since  it  was  not 
practicable  to  have  a  guard  for  each  man  the  chances 


io6  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

for  escape  were  good.  Again,  it  soon  became  known 
that  the  British  or  Canadian  prisoner  had  a  penchant 
for  destroying  all  he  could  and  for  doing  as  Httle 
work  as  possible.  On  the  other  hand,  the  boys  in 
most  cases  hked  farm  work  because  of  the  larger 
freedom  it  gave  them  and  because  of  the  better  treat- 
ment which  was  usually  given  by  the  farmers.  How- 
ever, the  easier  life  of  the  farm  was  not  to  be  for  us. 
Instead  we  were  soon  to  know  and  to  experience  con- 
ditions immeasurably  worse  than  we  had  known  in 
Diilmen. 


CHAPTER  VIII 
Into  "The  Black  Hole"  of  Germany 

Next  morning — August  2, 1916 — we  were  marched 
out  of  Diilmen  and  were  destined  not  to  see  it  again 
until  nearly  a  year  later,  and  in  very  different  cir- 
cumstances, when,  O'Brien  and  I,  prowling  through 
the  country  on  a  dark,  rainy  night,  making  for  the 
Border,  came  out  on  the  crest  of  a  hill  from  which 
the  bright  lights  of  the  camp  could  be  plainly  seen. 
But  more  of  this  later. 

It  was  harvest  time  in  Westphalia,  as  was  made 
evident  by  hundreds  of  women  and  children  stooking 
and  stacking  the  grain  in  the  fields.  Able-bodied 
men  were  little  in  evidence.  Here  and  there  an 
old-fashioned  thresher  was  humming  away,  fed 
by  an  old,  crippled-up  German.  Most  of  the  farm 
machinery  we  saw  was  either  Canadian  or  American 
and  at  one  spot  an  old  McCormick  mower  sitting 
by  the  roadside  made  us  all  homesick.  Two  rows 
of  splendid  trees  threw  their  branches  over  the  road 
forming  a  perfect  arch  and  where  a  gap  occasionally 
occurred  it  was  filled  with  apple  trees  loaded  with 
green  fruit.  I  suppose  the  effect  was  beautiful. 
But  we  couldn't  see  much  beauty  about  it  and 
tramped  along  sullenly.  Scenes  of  peace  and 
beauty  bring  no  joy  to  the  heart  of  a  slave. 

At  the  station  we  were  herded  into  an  enclosure 
to  wait  for  the  train.  In  the  meantime,  two  or  three 
trains  of  German  troops  went  through,  miserable, 

107 


io8  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

sullen-looking  fellows,  who  seemed  so  disgusted 
with  it  all  that  one  of  the  boys  remarked: 

"They  are  going  to  the  slaughter  and  they  know 
It. 

We  couldn  c  help  comparing  their  down-hearted- 
ness  and  quietness  with  the  high  spirits  of  the 
British  and  Canadian  troops  going  up  to  the  line. 
We  learned  a  little  later  that  these  fellows  were 
bound  for  the  Somme  and  understood  their  feelings. 
The  Somme  was  always  a  nightmare  to  the  Huns. 

Another  contrast  was  noticeable.  A  lot  of  Ger- 
man civilians — old  men,  women,  and  children — ^were 
standing  about  the  platform.  Did  they  enthuse 
over  their  passing  troops?  Not  a  bit  of  it.  They 
simply  seemed  to  take  no  notice  of  theni. 

After  a  long  wait  a  car  was  switched  in  and  when 
we  were  aboard  it  was  coupled  on  the  end  of  a  long 
train,  which,  after  another  wait,  pulled  slowly  out. 
We  travelled  along  deliberately  till  about  four 
o'clock  when  we  were  detrained  at  a  little  place 
named  Sin  Sin  and  were  marched  up  the  tracks  a 
piece  to  wait  for  another  train.  Wallie  and  I  were 
sitting  on  the  bank  when  our  attention  was  attracted 
by  the  jeers  from,  the  other  fellows  and  in  a  moment 
the  most  dilapidated  passenger  coach  I  ever  saw — 
black  with  smoke  and  coal  dust,  every  window 
broken,  boards  hanging  loose  all  along  its  sides — 
was  shunted  down  opposite  us.  Printed  on  the 
side  in  big  white  letters  was  the  name — "Auguste 
Victoria" — probably  that  of  some  German  princess, 
though  it  meant  little  to  me  then.  I  only  wish 
I  could  escape  the  bitter  memories  of  hardship, 
cruelty,  and  degradation  that  thac  name  invariably 
recalls  now. 

However,  we  were  soon  to  find  out  something 
about  it.     It  took  only  a  minute,  after  we  climbed 


"THE  BLACK  rfOLE'*  109 

aboard,  to  switch  the  car  ofF  thjs  main  line,  and  after 
a  short  run  up  a  three-mile  spur  we  came  into  a  big 
railway  yard.  At  first  our  attention  was  drawn  by 
two  huge  skeleton  steel  towers  which  some  of  us 
recognized  as  the  shaft-head  of  a  mine  but  before  we 
reached  this  we  came  to  a  queer-looking  plant  which 
we  afterward  learned  was  designated  as  the  Cokery. 
It  was  a  great  steel  platform,  probably  three  hundred 
yards  by  fifty,  raised  twelve  feet  off  the  ground  on 
concrete  piers,  with  a  row  of  huge  coke  ovens  down 
the  centre.  At  the  back  was  a  big  machine  for 
pushing  the  coke  out  of  the  ovens.  A  half-dozen 
"brands'*  (one  oven's  firing  of  coke — eight  tons) 
had  just  been  pushed  out  on  the  platform  in  front. 
Through  a  great  cloud  of  steam  and  gas  we  saw 
gaunt  figures  working  like  mad.  When  they  saw 
us  they  stopped  for  a  mxoment,  staring.  But  directly 
a  big,  red-faced,  red-headed  German  came  tearing 
down  the  platform  and  when  he  found  them  watching 
us  he  flew  into  a  rage  and  grabbing  up  a  chunk  of 
iron  bar  he  waved  it  menacingly,  while  he  punctuated 
his  threats  with  such  words  as  "  Schzveinhunde"  and 
other  choice  terms  of  endearment. 

Down  past  a  big  chemical  plant  and  a  brick  kiln 
the  train  carried  us,  past  the  minehead  and  huge 
coal  sheds,  until  finally,  when  we  wondered  what 
was  coming  next,  we  sighted  a  long,  low  barracks 
surrounded  by  barbed  wire  and  high  picket  fences. 
About  thirty  yards  apart,  between  the  fences,  guards 
were  stationed.  Another  was  to  be  seen  in  the  yard 
or  compound,  which  was  about  forty  by  six  yards, 
part  of  which  space  was  taken  up  by  buildings 
which  we  afterward  learned  were  the  jail  and  other 
outbuildings. 

It  didn't  take  long  to  tumble  out  of  the  cars  and  a 
moment  later  there  was  a  crowd  of  prisoners  around 


no  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

us  asking  for  news.  British,  Russians,  French,  and 
Belgians  were  all  in  evidence  but  there  was  only 
one  Canadian — Sammie  Woods,  of  the  5th  Battalion, 

Then  we  were  lined  up  in  the  yard  while  the  guards 
looked  us  over,  counted  us,  and  asked  us  all  sorts  of 
questions  as  to  our  civilian  occupations.  Say,  they 
must  have  had  a  nice  idea  of  what  class  of  Canadians 
were  fighting  if  they  took  us  seriously.  The  answers 
provided,  for  instance,  for  burglars,  swindlers,  gam- 
blers, organ  grinders,  pedlars,  and  a  long  list  of  others 
quite  as  ridiculous.  A  long,  lanky  German  they 
called  Johnston  acted  as  "  Dolmetscher"  (interpreter) 
and  since  his  knowledge  of  English  was  exceedingly 
limited  he  had  some  difficulty  in  rendering  these 
replies  into  understandable  German. 

The  long  building  was  divided  into  six  sections  and 
signs  over  the  doors  identified  these  as  " Englander 
Baracke''  (English  barracks);  " fVache^'  (Guard 
Room);  '' Russen  Baracke"  (Russian  Barracks); 
*' Revierstube"  (Hospital);  " Kokerie  Baracke"  (Bar- 
racks for  workers  in  the  cokery);  and,  in  the  farther 
end,  *' Franzosen  Baracke^*  (French  Barracks). 

We  were  taken  first  to  the  Kokerie  Baracke  and 
told  off  to  our  beds,  but  we  drew  rations  (such  as  we 
get),  and  ate  what  little  there  was  to  eat,  in  the 
English  barracks.  So  soon  as  there  was  room  we 
moved  in  there  finally. 

Seeing  that  we  were  still  half  starved  and  territly 
thin  we  were  much  surprised  when  the  other  fellows 
gathered  round  us  and  began  to  tell  us  how  well  we 
looked,  but  when  I  glanced  around  at  them,  and  saw 
the  marks  of  suffering  on  their  drawn  faces,  I  under- 
stood. They  were  perhaps  fleshier  than  we  were 
but  their  flesh  was  flabby  and  colourless  and  such  a 
world  of  homesick  misery  looked  out  of  their  eyes 
that  we  were  forced  to  wonder  at  their  evident  good 


'THE  BLACK  HOLE"  iii 

spirits.  Soon  we  found  the  answer.  The  words: 
"Be  British!"  were  always  slipping  out  of  some- 
body's mouth.  They  had  used  that — as  we  learned 
to,  afterward — as  a  spirit-instiller  and  a  cure  for 
hopelessness. 

The  Germans  did  everything  in  their  power  to 
keep  the  prisoners  miserable,  hopeless,  and  in  despair, 
so  that  we  shouldn't  oppose  their  plans  or  try  to 
escape;  and,  to  this  end,  they  told  us  all  sorts  of  bad 
news.  Everyone  in  Canada  had  starved  to  death — 
at  least,  there  were  a  few  left  but  they  were  getting 
pretty  thin,  too.  .  .  .  The  British  navy  was 
out  of  business  and  we  were  always  getting  beaten 
on  every  front. 

We  regarded  all  these  stories  as  lies  and  only  be- 
lieved the  rare  bits  of  good  news  we  heard,  so  the 
Germans,  thinking  we  would  be  more  likely  to  believe 
their  dismal  stories  if  we  could  read  them  in  our  own 
language,  introduced  a  paper  into  the  camp  which 
was  printed  in  English,  French,  and  Russian,  The 
paper  first  claimed  to  be  an  American  publication, 
but  when  America  came  into  the  war,  it  became 
neutral.  They  called  it  the  Continental  Times^ 
and  we  called  it  the  Confidential  Liar. 

We  used  to  get  a  good  deal  of  fun  out  of  this  pa- 
per, for  the  editor,  with  the  typical  German  lack 
of  the  sense  of  humour,  had  on  the  front  page  a  big 
headline  declaring:  "This  paper  is  published  in  the 
interests  of  Truth."  Yet  he  raved  through  its 
pages  in  bitter  German  anger,  blasting  everything 
that  wasn't  German,  and  continually  contradicting 
himself.  One  editorial  was  preserved  in  the  camp 
and  was  a  never-ending  source  of  amusement,  but 
we  Canadians  had  to  put  up  with  a  lot  of  chaffing 
because  of  it.  The  Germans  generally  were  sur- 
prisingly ignorant,  and  for  a  long  time  refused  to 


112  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

believe  that  we  were  Canadians,  stupidly  insisting 
that  Canadians  were  black. 

The  editor  of  the  Confidential  Liar  was  apparently 
labouring  under  the  same  delusion,  and  when  the 
first  Canadians  were  captured  at  Ypres,  the  editorial 
in  question  made  its  appearance.  It  said:  "We 
have  captured  at  Ypres  a  number  of  Canadians  and 
other  coloured  troops";  the  "other  coloured  troops" 
being  the  French  Algerians,  who  broke  and  ran  when 
the  gas  caught  them,  leaving  the  flank  exposed. 
He  went  on  to  say  how  fast  the  Canadians  could  run 
and  noted:  "But  in  spite  of  their  fleetness  of  foot, 
our  gallant  troops  overtook  them."  The  Old 
Country  boys  had  saved  the  paper  and  whenever  they 
thought  we  needed  toning  down,  read  it  off  to  us,  and 
afterward  the  Canadians  were  referred  to  by  their 
comrades  in  all  the  camps  as  "The  coloured  troops." 

We  always  made  the  most  of  the  few  bright 
spots  that  there  were  in  that  Hades  of  suffering. 

Everything  was  arranged  and  intended  to  crush 
the  prisoners'  spirit — bad  food,  cruel  treatment,  all 
kinds  of  bad  news  and  false  reports.  But  the  boys, 
with  the  true  British  spirit  that  never  has  been  and 
never  will  be  broken,  made  it  a  point  of  honour  to 
keep  on  smiling — or  to  "Be  British,"  as  they  called 
it.  Some  of  them  said  that  the  only  reason  they  were 
able  to  keep  alive  was  that  they  were  mad  all  the 
time.  And  that  was  probably  more  or  less  true. 
Under  relentless  persecution  and  bitter  enmity  on 
the  part  of  the  German  guards  the  trace  of  stubborn- 
ness which  has  caused  the  bulldog  to  be  adopted 
as  the  emblem  of  British  character  developed  in  us 
till  we  actually  became  so  stubborn  and  determined 
that  we  would  keep  on  smiling,  even  though  our 
hearts  were  breaking,  rather  than  let  the  Germans 
think  we  were  downhearted. 


"THE  BLACK  HOLE"  113 

When  one  of  the  chaps  would  get  into  trouble 
for  some  actual  or  (a  soften  happened)  for  some 
fancied  infringement  of  discipline  and  be  badly 
beaten  up  and  thrown  into  a  dark,  stinking  cell,  to 
come  out — after  a  couple  of  weeks  on  a  diet  (scanty 
at  that)  of  bread  and  water — a  physical  and  nervous 
wreck,  the  other  boys  would  have  as  good  a  meal  as 
possible  waiting  for  him  and  would  gather  round 
with  encouraging  words  to  cheer  him  up,  urging  him 
to  "Be  British."  Such  phrases  as  "Stick  to  it,  old 
man,"  or  "Cheer  up,  old  boy,  you'll  soon  be  dead," 
and  a  good  deal  of  teasing  and  jollying  would  revive 
again  the  good  old  fighting  spirit  and  make  him  feel 
that  it  was  well  worth  while  to  be  British. 

When  we  found  out  that  our  "Farm"  was  a  coal 
mine,  we  protested  that  we  would  not  work,  that 
we  would  go  on  strike.  The  chaps  who  had  been 
through  it  told  us,  however,  of  their  experiences, 
explaining  how  it  was  useless  to  attempt  such  action. 
In  telling  what  they  had  endured  and  suffered  they 
added  significantly:  "But  there  are  other  ways  of 
beating  the  'Squareheads'" — the  name  applied  to 
the  guards  by  all  British  prisoners. 

"How  is  that?"  I  asked. 

"Well,"  said  a  husky  Scot,  "six  of  us  are  in  jail 
now,  ten  are  in  hospital  here,  seven  at  Reckling- 
hausen, Some  of  us  have  been  returned  to  Miinster 
and  while  the  rest  of  us  are  working  we  are  keeping 
our  work  down  to  the  smallest  notch  possible — 
so  small  that  the  average  wage  of  an  'Englander'  is 
from  two  to  six  marks  a  week  while  the  'Froggies* 
get  from  twenty-five  to  forty-five." 

"What?     Do  they  pay  you?"  I  asked,  in  surprise. 

"Oh,  yes,"  he  laughed.  "They're  very  particular 
about  pay  and  they  actually  do  pay,  but — according 
to  the  amount  of  work  done.     If  you  work  hard 


114  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

you  have  plenty  of  money;  if  you  don't  you  won't  get 
much." 

*'I  won't  get  much,"  I  said.     And  I  didn't. 

A  few  hours  afterward,  however,  the  fifty  Cana- 
dians who  had  come  in  together  were  put  on  mine 
work  and  divided  up  between  the  three  shifts.  I  was 
allotted  to  the  night  shift  and  was  one  of  the  first 
to  go  down. 

At  nine  o'clock  we  were  ordered  to  fall  in  in  the 
yard  to  be  counted  and  were  then  searched  for 
money,  food,  maps,  compasses,  or  anything  else 
likely  to  be  useful  in  an  attempt  at  escape.  Then 
the  guards  took  up  positions  all  around  us  and 
•  marched  us  over  to  the  mine-head  where  we  all 
changed  our  clothes  in  a  bathroom  so  crowded  that 
we  could  scarcely  move,  and,  putting  on  a  suit  of 
overalls  and  special  boots  supplied  by  the  company 
that  operated  the  mines,  we  passed  down  a  long 
passage  to  a  big  room  where  we  drew  our  lamps. 
From  here  we  were  forced  up  a  steep  stairway  and 
down  another  passage  to  the  mine-head  where  we 
were  packed  into  rough  cages  and  dropped  swiftly 
down  for  eight  hundred  yards — almost  half  a  mile. 
It  almost  made  me  sick,  and  turning  to  an  old  EngHsh- 
man  beside  me  I  asked: 

"Did  it  make  you  sick  the  first  time?" 

"I  don't  know,"  was  his  reply.  *'I  wasn't  con- 
scious when  they  brought  us  down  here  first.  We 
refused  to  come  down  but  they  drove  us  over  with 
the  points  of  their  bayonets  and  when  we  wouldn't 
get  into  the  cages  they  knocked  us  senseless  with 
the  butts  of  their  rifles  and  threw  us  in.  The  civiHans 
dragged  us  out  at  the  bottom."  This  was  typical 
of  the  treatment  generally  accorded,  so  I  asked  no 
more  about  it. 

It  is  perhaps  worth  nothing  that  these  mines  were 


J^THE  BLACK  HOLE"  115 

opened'^ih  1870  and  that  the  shafts  were  sunk  by 
French  prisoners  taken  in  the  Franco-Prussian  war. 
Even  then,  you  see,  the  Germans  used  their  prisoners 
as  slaves.  The  mine  machineiy  and  methods  of 
operation  had  never  been  modernized;  many  of  the 
methods  that  were  in  vogue  at  that  time  are  being 
used  now.  The  only  up-to-date  part  of  the  whole 
plant  was  the  huge  engines  and  boilers  of  the  power 
house.  Underground  everything  was  antiquated. 
The  work  of  horses  was  performed  by  men  while 
work  that  should  have  been  handled  by  machinery 
was  done  by  horses. 

When  we  reached  the  bottom  of  the  shaft  that 
first  night  we  were,  as  you  can  imagine,  in  anything 
but  cheerful  spirits.  We  sat  about  the  shaft  for 
an  hour  and  then  were  taken  along  into  one  of  the 
workings  about  three  miles,  where  our  shift  started. 
We  were  under  the  authority  of  civilians  and  civilian 
bosses  called  ^^steigers"  (foremen).  These  fellows 
always  liked  to  stay  up  above  as  long  as  possible 
so  we  had  to  get  down  first  and  come  up  last.  It 
was  arranged  that  there  were  always  three  or  four 
civilians  to  one  prisoner.  They  considered  such  an 
arrangement  necessary  when  they  were  dealing  with 
the  British  so  that  if,  as  often  happened,  any  trouble 
developed,  the  Germans  would  always  be  in  the 
majority. 

They  were  a  bad  lot,  these  civilians,  always  ready 
to  get  a  crack  at  us — -ever  ready  to  take  an  oppor- 
tunity to  injure  us  in  any  way  possible.  And  with 
all  this  they  were  cowardly  and  treacherous  to  a 
degree.  If  one  of  them  got  the  worst  of  an  argu- 
ment with  a  prisoner  he  would  get  two  or  three  others 
and  wait  for  his  victim  at  a  chosen  spot.  They 
hadn't  enough  manliness  to  think  of  fighting  with 
their  fists,  but  used  a  knife,  a  pit  lamp,  a  club,  or  a 


ii6  THE  JCAISER'S  GUEST 

chunk  of  wire  cable.  If  we  started  at  them  with  our 
fists,  as  we  frequently  did  in  self-protection,  they 
seemed  to  think  we  were  taking  an  unfair  advantage 
of  them.  We  did  not  dare  to  strike  or  scarcely  to 
resist  a  guard — who  was  a  soldier — for  we  knew  it 
meant  almost  certain  death,  but  there  was  little  love 
lost  between  the  guards  and  the  civilians  and  we 
could  consequently  go  after  the  civiHans  without 
the  same  fears  as  to  results.  They  were  always 
anxious  to  find  out  what  profession  we  had  followed 
before  joining  the  army  and  you  may  be  sure  we 
took  advantage  of  this  in  every  way  possible.  When, 
for  instance,  a  chap  who  was  big  and  husky,  told 
them  that  he  had  been  a  boxer,  they  usually  man- 
aged to  give  him  a  wide  berth  afterward. 

Perhaps  another  reason  for  the  fact  that  we  were 
able  to  dominate  them  more  or  less  was  that  the 
authorities  used  any  disturbance  in  the  mine  as  an 
excuse  for  fining  these  civilians  heavily.  For  exam- 
ple, after  a  prisoner  had  been  badly  beaten  up,  he 
would  be  encouraged  by  one  or  two  of  the  under- 
officers  to  enter  a  case  against  the  civilians  in  the 
"Court  of  Justice,"  which,  by  the  way,  was  a  sort 
of  standing  joke  among  us.  After  a  long,  tedious 
trial  and  a  lot  of  false  evidence  the  civilians  were 
usually  fined  five  hundred  marks  each.  This  looked 
easy  for  the  prisoner,  but  he  was  usually  told  that  he 
was  in  the  wrong  also  and  warned  not  to  let  such  an 
affair  happen  again.  The  fines  went  to  the  ''War 
Chest." 

Along  the  underground  road  on  the  way  out  to  the 
gallery  in  which  I  was  to  work  I  noticed  that  a  great 
many  old  coal  seams  had  been  worked  out  but  that 
the  openings  had  not  been  closed  up  again;  shortage 
of  labour,  as  I  afterward  found  out.  In  most  parts 
the  mine  was  fairly  well  ventilated  but  in  these  old 


"THE  BLACK  HOLE"  117 

workings  it  was  very  hot  and  full  of  gas.  In  the 
smaller  galleries  the  supporting  timbers  were  shat- 
tered and  broken  and  in  many  places  huge  masses 
of  rock  hung  over  the  roadway  just  waiting  a  touch 
to  bring  them  down.  In  some  spots  the  roof  was  so 
low  that  it  merely  cleared  the  tops  of  the  cars  and 
we  had  to  walk  along  behind  them  bent  half-double. 
At  first  we  pushed  the  cars  with  our  hands  on  top, 
but  we  soon  became  cured  of  this  for  at  the  low  spots 
our  knuckles  got  badly  smashed  by  coming  in  contact 
with  the  roof. 

Sick  and  weak,  and  scarcely  able  to  stand,  I  was 
put  to  work  with  three  old  Germans,  fixing  up  the 
small  railway  lines.  Up  to  this  point  I  hadn't  had 
an  opportunity  to  learn  any  German,  yet  the  old 
savages  used  to  give  me  my  orders  in  German  and 
also  a  great  deal  of  abuse  when  I  couldn't  understand 
them.  They  seemed  to  think  that  German  was  a 
sort  of  International  language  which  everybody  must 
know  and  that  I  was  malingering  when  I  professed 
not  to  be  able  to  understand  it. 

After  three  days  of  this  I  asked  the  Steiger  to  put 
me  on  another  shift,  and  was  placed  in  '' Revier 
zwei"  (section  two).  The  work  was  harder  here 
but  my  friend  Nicholson  was  on  the  same  shift  and 
it  was  good  to  be  together  again.  We  worked  about 
three  days  when  Flannigan,  a  young  Irish-Canadian, 
was  killed.  We  were  told  that  the  roof  had  fallen  in 
on  him,  but  we  never  knew  as  we  were  not  allowed  to 
see  the  body.  Any  one  of  a  dozen  things  may  have 
happened.  In  any  event,  we  had  all  been  complain- 
ing of  the  dangerous  conditions  in  the  mine  and  de- 
cided to  go  on  strike. 

As  a  result  the  Canadians  in  the  first  shift  refused 
to  march  out  of  the  yard.  They  were  badly  beaten 
up  but  still  refused  to  go  down  to  work  so  they  were 


ii8  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

stood  to  Attention  under  guard.  The  next  shift 
took  the  same  stand  and  received  the  same  treatment, 
being  lined  up  behind  us.  Finally  the  night  shift 
came  along,  too,  for  a  dose  of  the  same  treatment. 
We  were  all  very  weak  and  when  we  had  been  stand- 
ing from  early  morning  till  late  at  night  without 
food  or  v/ater  and  unable  to  move  a  muscle  for  relief 
without  being  hammered  or  poked  at  with  a  bayo- 
net, we  v/ere  about  done  for. 

I  was  the  first  to  go.  Suddenly  I  felt  my  grip  on 
things  slipping  and  everything  went  black.  When, 
finally,  I  came  to,  in  the  Revierstube^  I  was  very  sick 
and  dizzy  and  was  surprised  to  find  myself  badly 
scratched  and  torn.  Two  of  the  British  Tommies 
were  with  me  and  they  told  me  that  I  had  pitched 
over  on  my  face  into  the  barbed-wire  fence  in  front 
of  the  line  and  had  hung  there  for  some  time.  After 
a  time  the  Germans,  anxious  lest  they  should  lose  a 
slave,  had  ordered  the  Tommies — who  had  long  be- 
fore learned  the  uselessness  of  going  on  strike — to 
carry  me  off  and  try  to  bring  me  back  to  conscious- 
ness. 

This  was  early  morning.  When  I  asked  for  the 
other  boys  they  told  me  they  were  "still  sticking." 
All  through  the  scorching  day  they  stood  and  if 
hand  or  foot  was  moved  for  relief  the  guard  was  on 
the  spot  in  a  moment  to  administer  the  knock-down 
treatment  with  the  rifle.  Two  chaps  fainted  during 
the  day  and  were  only  with  difficulty  brought  round 
again.  All  through  the  following  night  in  a  drizzling 
cold  rain  they  stood,  too  stiff  to  move.  And  when 
daylight  broke  again  they  were  marched  over  to  the 
''Kokerie"  and  lined  up  facing  the  red-hot  coke 
ovens. 

(Of  all  the  tortures  employed,  that  was  the  most 
popular    and    most    effective.     Placed    against    the 


"THE  BLACK  HOLE"  119 

heat  and  gas,  in  his  weakened  condition,  this  treat- 
ment was  invariably  too  much  for  even  the  strongest 
to  stand.  In  a  httle  time  the  fumes  would  sicken 
him  and  he  would  faint,  sometimes  pitching  on  his 
face  against  the  hot  oven.  One  of  the  guards  would 
then  turn  the  hose  on  him  or  throw  two  or  three 
buckets  of  cold  water  over  him,  giving  him  a  vicious 
kick  now  and  then  to  aid  in  bringing  him  back  to 
consciousness.  When  he  showed  signs  of  life  he  was 
stood  in  the  line  again  and  this  treatment  v/as  con- 
tinued until  he  was  ready  to  give  in.) 

This  time,  how^ever,  an  unexpected  incident  inter- 
rupted the  proceedings.  The  boys  had  only  been 
standing  in  front  of  the  ovens  a  short  time  when  a 
civilian,  who  was  announced  to  be  the  Spanish  Am- 
bassador, arrived  in  the  camp.  To  present  a  good 
appearance,  I  suppose,  a  guard  was  sent  over  to  the 
" Koktrie*'  and  the  Canadians  were  taken  awa^/  and 
placed  in  a  big  shed.  While  there  they  talked  it 
over,  decided  there  was  no  use  keeping  up  the  strike 
under  such  conditions,  and  regretfully  agreed  to  give 
in.  When  the  announcement  was  made  the  guards 
tried  to  encourage  Nicholson  and  Blacklock,  who 
had  been  the  most  determined,  to  hold  out.  They 
wanted  to  make  an  example  of  them.  The  boys  got  an 
idea  of  their  game,  however,  and  quit  with  the  rest. 

Poor  Flannigan  was  buried  next  day  and  thirty 
of  us  were  allowed  to  attend  the  funeral.  It  was  the 
saddest  scene  I  think  I  have  ever  seen  and  was  bit- 
terly hard  to  think  that  the  poor  chap  had  gone 
through  so  much  in  the  service  of  his  country  only 
to  be  killed  at  last  in  slavery  among  its  enemies. 

When  we  started  work  again  the  guards  taunted  us 
continually  on  our  failure  to  stand  their  punishment. 
God!  Wouldn't  I  like  to  have  them  under  similar 
conditions  for  a  little  while.     Those  fellows  were  the 


I20  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

cruellest  of  all  the  Germans  with  whom  I  have  had 
anything  to  do.  They  were  always  in  and  olit  of  our 
barracks — morning,  noon,  and  night — to  see  that  no 
one  was  breaking  rules.  The  camp  was  always  under 
punishment,  for  if  any  one  prisoner  committed  a 
misdemeanour  the  whole  contingent  was  punished. 
(Of  course  the  offender  got  his  a  little  worse  than  the 
rest.)  The  idea,  apparently,  was  to  make  the  whole 
group  collectively  responsible  for  the  behaviour  of 
the  individuals  composing  it  so  that  we  should  use 
our  combined  influence  to  keep  the  individual  from 
breaking  out.  But  the  regulations  were  such  that  it 
was  almost  impossible  not  to  break  them.  We  could 
neither  sing,  play  cards,  dance,  nor  have  any  recrea- 
tion of  any  kind.  We  couldn't  even  smoke  in  the 
barracks.  Those  guards  used  to  pop  in  every  few 
minutes  to  see  what  was  going  on.  Some  nights 
they  would  come  in  ten  or  twelve  times,  turn  on  the 
lights  and  wake  us  all  up  by  pounding  with  their 
rifles  on  the  floor  and  shouting  in  their  deep,  guttural, 
characteristic  German  voices. 

If  they  were  at  all  suspicious  that  anything  out 
of  the  ordinary  was  happening  they  would  turn  us 
all  out  in  the  yard  where  we  were  forced  to  stand, 
shivering  with  cold,  while  they  counted  us.  It  was 
a  great  game,  that  counting;  they  did  it  frequently 
enough:  " Eiuy  zwei,  drei,  vier,fiunj,  seeks ,'  and  on  up 
they  would  count  till  one  of  the  boys  in  the  back  row 
would  start  to  "kid  them"  in  broken  German.  This 
naturally  made  them  mad  and  they  would  stop  count- 
ing and  try  to  find  the  offender,  generally  forgetting 
how  far  they  had  counted.  When  this  happened 
two  or  three  times  they  would  try  to  make  up  by 
kicking  us  in  the  shins  as  they  went  along.  They 
seldom  got  the  count  right,  but  if  they  had  too  many 
they  didn't  let  any  go :  oh,  no. 


"THE  BLACK  HOLE"  121 

After  a  while  I  was  put  on  the  morning  shift  in  the 
mine  again  with  a  young  German  named  Ferdinand 
.and  was  assigned  to  " steinerkippe?!,"  This  I  found 
to  be  one  of  the  hardest  jobs  in  the  mine.  We  had 
to  push  cars  loaded  with  rock  along  little  railways 
out  to  the  end  of  the  coal  seams  and  dump  the  rock 
in  to  occupy  the  space  from  which  the  coal  had  been 
removed.  To  dump  those  cars  we  had  to  put  our 
backs  against  them  and  by  main  strength  lift  them 
off  the  tracks,  then  back  again. 

Ferdinand  was  a  strong  chap,  about  twenty-eight, 
well  built,  but  almost  blind,  which  made  military 
service  impossible.  He  wasn't  such  a  bad  chap,  as 
the  Germans  go,  and  I  got  along  fairly  well  with 
him  for  a  couple  of  months.  When  we  were  pushing 
those  heavy  cars  up  the  slopes  he  would  put  his 
mighty  back  against  them  and  heaving  all  the  time, 
while  I  did  as  little  as  I  could  get  away  with;  he  would 
shout  in  my  ear :  "  Fest !  nurfest !  verdammt  die  Schzvein- 
hund. "  (Faster,  faster,  you  damned  pig-dog.)  In  my 
turn  I  would  growl  "/<2,  ja,''  and  would  grunt  as 
though  I  were  pushing  my  insides  out. 

When  I  got  a  little  used  to  him,  so  that  I  could 
hold  my  temper  when  these  vile  names  came  out  and 
could  laugh  at  his  savage  and  indecent  jokes,  we  got 
along  much  better  and  the  great  savage  used  to 
talk  freely  about  the  war  and  its  effects  on  Germany. 
In  many  ways  he  was  stupid  and  ignorant  but  on 
some  matters  he  had  a  good  deal  of  information.  One 
day  v/hile  we  were  waiting  for  some  cars  of  stone  I 
began  quizzing  him  as  to  rumours  I  had  heard  about 
trouble  between  Germany  and  Holland. 

"How  many  soldiers  has  Holland?"  I  asked  in 
broken  German. 

Ferdinand  glared  at  me  for  a  moment  and  then 
growled  out: 


122  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

"The  ungrateful  pig-dogs.  They  have  six  hun- 
dred thousand.  But  that  is  nothing.  It's  the 
food.  We  are  starving  and  we  depend  on  Sweden 
and  Holland."  Then  he  broke  out  into  a  rage. 
*'But  the  swine  will  suffer.  Yesterday  I  was  home 
and  all  day  long  the  artillery  from  Diilmen  passed 
through  on  the  way  to  the  Border.  We  will  punish 
the  dogs  who  dare  to  war  on  Germany." 

*'  But  you  have  lost  the  war  now,  Ferd.  When  you 
didn't  get  to  Paris  or  Calais,  when  you  didn't  take 
Verdun,  you  lost  the  war." 

**Damn  the  English  swine.  They  are  everywhere. 
The  French  and  the  Russians,  they  don't  want  to 
fight  Germany,  but  the  English  are  always  at  war. 
They  fight  like  the  devil  and  learn  nothing  from  it." 

"We  learned  to  beat  the  Germans,  anyhow,"  I 
answered,  rather  hotly. 

"No,    no;    not    yet.     In    the    end — perhaps 

We  cannot  win.  .  .  .  But  Germany  must  win. 
.  .  .  But  it's  the  sea.  You  have  the  sea.  On 
land  we  can  win.  Against  all  the  world  we  can  win 
because  it  is  our  war  and  we  have  nothing  to  unlearn. 
There  was  no  other  war  with  us  and  no  other  experi- 
ence for  us  to  forget  or  old  equipment  for  us  to  renew. 
This  was  the  only  war  with  us  and  we  planned  and 
organized.  You  had  to  fight  according  to  our  plan. 
The  British  are  soldiers  but  their  generals  learned 
their  war  in  Africa  and  Asia — in  India.  They  have 
to  forget  it  and  they  cant.  We  learned  our  war  in 
Germany  and  France.  We  planned  and  practised 
on  the  ground  we  fought  on  and  we  would  have  won 
but  for  the  damned  Englander." 

This  was  a  fair  sample  of  the  conversations  we  had 
almost  every  day,  carried  on  in  broken  German  im- 
possible to  reproduce  here.  He  always  acknowledged 
in  the  end  that  Germany  could  not  finally  win  and 


"THE  BLACK  HOLE"  123 

told  me  of  his  plans  to  go  to  Belgium  after  the  war 
to  get  away  from  Germany  and  to  work  building  up 
the  destroyed  cities. 

This  was  typical,  too,  of  the  civilians  as  a  whole. 
They  were  in  a  hopeless  state  of  mind  and  while  very 
rarely  any  of  them  would  express  a  hope  of  winning 
they  were  all  exceedingly  anxious  for  the  end  of  the 
war.  Some  expressed  the  intention  of  getting  out  of 
Germany.  Others  would  tell  us  that  they  would  cut 
the  throats  of  every  capitalist  in  the  country,  as  no 
doubt  they  will  because  they  like  that  sort  of  work. 
While  they  did  not  seem  to  dare  to  mention  the 
Kaiser,  we  understood  that  by  "capitalists"  they 
meant  him  and  his  government,  the  military  class 
generally. 

They  scarcely  dared  to  speak  freely,  even  to  their 
own  friends,  for  the  German  spy  system  is  in  opera- 
tion even  among  these  poor  men  and  no  one  knew 
who  might  be  watching  him,  only  waiting  for  a 
chance  to  get  him  into  trouble.  If  one  of  these 
fellows  was  caught  making  any  disloyal  statements 
or  trying  in  any  way  to  stir  up  revolution  he  would 
be  immediately  sent  off  to  the  front,  regardless  of  his 
physical  fitness.  The  same  thing  prevails  to  a  great 
extent  among  the  German  soldiers.  Here  the  in- 
former is  rewarded  with  promotion,  and  since  the 
non-com.  is  so  much  more  favoured  than  the  private 
in  the  army  such  upward  steps  are  eagerly  looked  for. 
While  this  system  prevails  it  will  be  seen  what  dif- 
ficulties stand  in  the  way  of  any  revolutionary  move- 
ment among  either  soldiers  or  civilians. 

Our  hours  were  certainly  no  sinecure.  When  I 
was  on  the  morning  shift  we  were  marched  over  and 
sent  down  in  the  mine  at  4  a.  m.  From  the  bottom 
of  the  shaft  we  walked  from  two  to  three  miles  to  the 
scene  of  our  allotted  task  and  then  waited  an  hour 


124  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

or  so  for  the  civilians  to  arrive.  We  worked  eight 
hours,  marched  back  to  the  shaft,  and  sat  around  till 
all  the  civiHans  ascended;  then  we  were  taken  up  and 
were  allowed  to  wash  and  dress  before  being  marched 
over  to  the  camp.  Usually  our  working  day  lasted 
from  twelve  to  thirteen  hours,  sometimes  longer. 
For  a  while  the  boys  who  were  on  the  other  shifts 
stayed  up  at  night  to  have  supper  ready  for  us  when 
we  came  in  but  the  Germans  soon  forbade  this.  Two 
or  three  times  they  came  in,  gathered  up  all  the  hot 
food  placed  round  the  fire,  and  threw  it  out. 

By  this  time,  our  parcels  were  coming  through 
and  we  were  better  off  in  the  way  of  food  supply. 
And  while  we  were  mighty  glad  to  get  the  parcels, 
we  got  a  good  deal  of  stuff  that  was  of  no  use  to  us. 
At  first,  packages  could  be  sent  in  by  friends  and  rela- 
tives. Afterward  it  was  taken  over  entirely  by  the 
Red  Cross  in  London  and  conditions  became  much 
more  satisfactory.  Then  we  couldn't  get  word  to  our 
people  that  we  were  starving;  and  they  sent  us  the 
things  we  had  wanted  in  the  trenches  such  as  chewing 
gum,  candy,  cakes,  fruit,  etc.  What  we  wanted 
now  was  the  "bully"  and  "MacConachie,"  which 
w^e  then  considered  only  fit  to  build  dug-outs  with. 
Then,  too,  a  great  many  of  the  private  parcels  were 
lost  and  many  were  destroyed  because  of  improper 
packing.  Again  somebody  would  try  to  send  a 
letter,  a  paper,  a  map,  or  a  compass,  all  of  which  of 
course  were  forbidden.  If  anything  like  this  was 
discovered  the  whole  parcel  system  was  upset  and  we 
all  suffered.  Again,  a  few  of  the  boys  who  belonged 
to  wealthy  families  or  who  had  friends  in  England 
were  showered  with  parcels  while  some  had  no  home 
nor  friends  and  consequently  got  little.  The  boys 
were  all  good  to  one  another  and  shared  up  always. 
I  once  saw  a  boy  take  off  his  boots  and  stockings 


"THE  BLACK  HOLE^^  125 

right  in  the  yard  and  give  them  to  a  prisoner  just 
in  from  the  front,  starved  and  nearly  naked.  But  it 
was  mighty  hard  on  some  of  us  who  had  to  look  to  the 
others  all  the  time  for  enough  to  keep  body  and  soul 
together. 

One  would  think  that  life  in  that  camp  would  be 
entirely  without  relieving  instances  but  occasionally 
such  did  come  along.  West  of  our  barracks  was  the 
'' JVache,"  or  German  Guard  Room,  and  next  again 
to  that  was  the  canteen  or  soup  kitchen,  in  which 
about  fifteen  sturdy  German  girls  worked.  There 
was  no  entrance  from  our  barracks  but  a  big  window 
had  been  cut  in  the  wall  on  each  side,  and  through 
this  our  soup  and  coffee  were  passed. 

Some  of  these  girls  were  really  fine-looking.  Per- 
haps it  was  because  we  had  no  chance  to  see  any 
really  decent  women  that  made  us  think  so.  At 
first  they  had  no  use  for  the  British  prisoners.  They 
had  been  told  that  England  had  emptied  all  her  pris- 
ons when  the  war  began  and  that  we  were  all  convicts. 
For  a  while  they  would  have  nothing  to  do  with  us 
but  soon  the  good-natured  chaffing  of  the  boys,  and 
the  fact  that  we  remained  friendly  under  all  their 
abuse  caused  them  to  moderate  their  views  and  they 
even  became  quite  friendly.  Often  they  would 
open  up  that  window  and  talk  to  us  for  quite  a 
time.  Of  course  we  had  to  be  careful  that  the  guards 
were  not  about  for  they  were  very  jealous  of  any 
such  relations  and  would  stir  up  a  fuss  if  they  knew 
such  things  were  going  on.  Some  of  the  fellows  even 
got  so  far  that  two  or  three  of  the  girls  agreed  to 
try  to  escape  with  them.  They  were  to  meet  our 
fellows  outside  with  clothes  and  food  and  get  over 
the  Border  together.  Somehow,  however,  these  well- 
planned  affairs  never  came  off.  We  did  hear  stories  of 
where  such  things  had  been  tried  at  other  camps  but 


126  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

never  learned  of  any  successful  escapes  managed  in 
this  way. 

An  interesting  story  came  in  from  one  Kommando 
where  two   English   lads  who   knew   something  of 
German  had  been  placed  in  the  camp  office  to  do 
clerical  work   under  the  supervision  of  the  camp 
commandant.     The  officer's  daughter,  a  pretty  young 
girl,  came  into  the  office  every  day  and  became 
quite  taken  up  with  the  good-looking  young  English- 
man.    Though    they   were    carefully   watched    the 
two  must  have  managed  to  get  together  now  and 
again  for  they  finally  planned  to  escape  together  by 
way  of  Holland.     The  young  prisoner  was  to  get 
away  from  his  guards  with  his  chum  and  meet  the 
girl,  with  her  chum,  at  a  specified  point  outside  the 
camp.     The  plan  worked  smoothly  at  first,  for  the 
two  girls  met  the  young  fellows  at  the  appointed 
place  and  in  the  meantime  the  commandant's  daugh- 
ter had  stolen  two  suits  of  civiHan  clothes,  as  well  as 
the  necessary  passports  and  her  father's  automobile. 
That    was    escaping    de    luxe,    surely.     Everything 
went  well  till  they  got  within  a  few  miles  of  the 
Border  when  the  boys  decided  to  give  the  girls  the 
sHp  and  to  try  to  cross  "on  their  own."     With  their 
separation  from  their  fair  friends,  however,  their  luck 
seemed  to  change.     One  was  wounded  at  the  Border 
and  the  other  was  captured  and  so  they  were  taken 
back,  I  suppose  to  the  usual  punishment.     I  have 
often  wondered  what  that  officer  said  to  his  daughter 
when  they  brought  her  back.     Wow! 


'  / 


CHAPTER  IX 

Freedom  Shortlived — The  First  Attempted 

Escape 

Being  Gomrades  in  distress,  so  to  speak,  it  was 
not  at  all  strange  that  the  Canadians  soon  became 
very  friendly  with  the  British  Tommies  in  the 
barracks.  They  were  fine  fellows,  nearly  all  regular 
army  men  who  had  been  captured  during  the  Retreat 
from  Mons,  at  the  time  when  the  little  band  of 
**Contemptibles,"  fighting  against  overwhelming 
odds,  lost  nearly  all  their  wounded  by  reason  of  the 
appalling  fact  that  every  man  was  needed  for  the 
actual  fighting  and  none  could  be  spared  to  carry 
the  wounded  back.  These  fellows  had  seen  service 
of  one  kind  and  another  in  about  every  corner  of  the 
earth  where  the  British  flag  floats  and  strange  were 
the  stories  they  had  to  tell  of  experiences  and  scraps 
before  the  Great  War. 

No  stories  were  more  harrowing  or  biting,  how- 
ever, than  those  of  the  atrocities  committed  by  the 
Germans  in  the  same  Mons  Retreat.  The  earnest- 
ness with  which  they  were  told  and  the  relentless 
hatred  such  actions  had  provoked  were  evidence  not 
to  be  doubted  of  their  truthfulness. 

One  night,  for  instance,  we  were  sitting  around 
the  fire  ^^arning  when  one  of  the  "Old  Boys"  came 
in  and  cried  in  a  high-pitched,  peculiar  voice: 
"Wait  for  me!  Wait  for  me!"  drawing  out  the 
words  in  a  long,  dismal  wail. 

127 


128  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

I  had  heard  the  same  thing  several  times  before 
and  was  curious.  When  I  asked  what  it  meant  a 
big  Guardsman  said: 

*'0h,  that's  the 'Cry  of  Mons.'" 

*' What's  that?"  I  asked,  in  all  innocence. 

**Did  you  never  hear  of  the  'Cry  of  Mons'r" 
was  the  rather  surprised  answer.  "Well,  I'll  tell 
you  about  it." 

"Anything  to  do  with  the  Angels  of  Mons?"  I 
asked. 

"Angels  of  Mons?  Oh,  Lord,  yes.  It  had  to  do 
with  the  angels,  all  right."  Then  (after  a  short, 
reflective  silence):  "The  angels  were  there  in  front 
of  us.  Thousands  of  them.  Gaunt,  gray  angels 
with  spiked  helmets,  murdering  and  mutilating 
as  they  came.  Call  them  angels  or  devils  as  you 
like.     They  were  the  devil's  own  angels." 

"But  were  there  no  angels  at  Mons?"  I  persisted. 

"I  saw  thousands  of  devils.  They  swarmed  in 
every  road  and  field.  And  because  of  their  murder- 
ing I  heard  for  the  first  time  the  *Cry  of  Mons.' 
^\"We  were  fighting  a  rear-guard  action,"  he  went 
on.  "And  for  days  and  weeks  we  were  Hke  men  in 
a  horrible  dream.  It  was  retire  and  fight,  retire  and 
fight,  till  the  orders  seemed  to  come  in  autom.atically. 
And  still  the  gray  wolves  pressed  in  on  us  in  thou- 
sands. I  worked  my  machine  gun  till  they  were 
almost  on  top  of  me  and  then  picked  it  up  and 
carried  it  back  to  a  new  position  and  opened  her  up 
again.  A  handful  of  the  chaps  would  stay  behind 
and  hold  the  devils  up  till  we  got  the  gun  away. 
They  were  nearly  always  killed,  but  men  were  cheaper 
than  machine  guns  just  then  and  we  had  to  hold 
on  to  it.  Outnumbered  ten  to  one,  as  we  were,  we 
couldn't  spare  any  one  to  bring  along  our  wounded. 
The  Door  fellows  knew  what  was  in  store  for  them 


FREEDOM  SHORTLIVED  129 

for  they  had  seen  things  before  and  heard  the  call 
themselves,  so  they  would  try,  no  matter  how  they 
were  suffering,  to  drag  themselves  after  us.  When 
it  was  beyond  them  to  keep  up  any  longer,  the  piteous, 
heart-wringing  call  'Wait  for  me!  Wait  for  me!' 
would  come  to  us.  I  tell  you,  the  hardest  thing  I've 
ever  had  to  do  was  to  get  back  with  that  gun  and 
leave  them." 

After  a  minute's  thought  as  to  whether  to  tell 
the  rest  he  went  on  again: 

"About  dusk  one  day  my  chum  on  the  gun  was 
hit  badly.  We  stretched  him  out,  only  half  con- 
scious, at  the  foot  of  a  tree,  and  picked  up  the  old 
gun  to  move  back  again.  I  was  glad  it  was  half 
dark  for  if  he  had  seen  us  going  I  don't  think  I 
could  have  left  him.  But  the  gun — I  had  to  save 
the  gun.  We  hurried  away,  but  he  must  have  heard 
us  and  come  back  to  consciousness  for  as  we  were 
hurrying  back  his  voice  came  to  me:  *Hey,  Jock! 
Wait  for  me!'  I  turned  back,  but  a  burst  of  rifle 
fire  coming  from  close  to  where  he  lay  told  me  it 
was  too  late.  One  thing  remained,  to  save  him 
from  the  tortures  of  those  inhuman  brutes.  So, 
dropping  the  gun  into  position  again,  I  got  my  sights 
set  just  at  the  base  of  the  tree  where  he  lay  and 
swept  the  place.  Then,  grabbing  up  the  gun  again, 
we  beat  it,  just  in  time,  praying  in  the  bottoms  of 
our  hearts  that  the  bullets  had  gone  home  quick. 
'Wait  for  me!  Wait  for  me!'  That  cry  rings  in 
my  ears  all  the  time.  I  can't  forget  it  and  I'll  never 
forgive  the  barbarian,  bastard  race  that  murdered 
my  wounded  comrades." 

*'  Did  they  get  you  on  that  retreat  ?"  Wallie  asked, 
after  a  little. 

"No,"  Jock  said.  "I  was  wounded  myself  a 
little  while   after  and  was  sent  home  to   Blighty. 


I30  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

I  came  back  again  and  was  wounded  and  taken 
prisoner  at  Loos.  While  I  was  in  hospital  the  first 
time  a  young  preacher — I  won't  call  him  a  sky-pilot 
because  sky-pilots  are  good  fellows — ^who  looked 
young  enough  and  strong  enough  to  be  in  the  army, 
came  to  see  me  and  had  the  nerve  to  ask  me  what 
I  thought  of  the  Germans." 

**What  did  you  tell  him?"  came  in  a  chorus. 

*'Tell  him?"  (bitterly).  *'I  cursed  them  as  the 
savages  and  murderers  that  they  are,  just  as  you 
boys  curse  them  every  day  of  your  lives.  I  told  him 
that  I  never  went  to  sleep  at  night  before  I  had 
prayed  from  the  bottom  of  my  soul  for  the  destruc- 
tion of  the  whole  accursed  race." 

"And  what  did  he  say  to  that?" 

"That  I  should  love  my  enemies.  And  I  got  up  on 
my  crutches  and  kicked  him  out  of  the  hospital 
with  the  help  of  a  wounded  Canuck  in  the  next 


cot." 


"Go  to  it,  Scottie.  Give  it  to  'em  hot,"  a  couple 
of  the  listeners  commented,  and  the  burly,  red- 
headed chap  began  to  get  even  more  forceful. 

Just  then  came  the  warning:  "Square-head  in!" 
We  knew  that  a  German  guard  was  coming  and 
made  a  bee-line  for  our  beds. 

Oh,  those  beds!  They  were  unspeakably  dirty 
and  were  infested  with  millions  of  fleas — great, 
whopping  fleas  that  came  up  in  our  clothes  from  the 
mine.  We  were  always  in  misery  from  them. 
Night  after  night  I  have  sat  up  in  bed,  and,  running 
the  risk  of  punishment  for  doing  so,  have  struck  a 
match  and  turned  my  pillow  over,  to  see  dozens 
of  them  hopping  away  like  grasshoppers.  It  was 
quite  impossible  to  get  rid  of  them.  During  the 
time  I  spent  in  that  barracks  the  straw  in  the  mat- 
tress was  changed  once.     The  blankets  and  covering 


i 


FREEIX)M  SHORTLIVED  131 

in  which  that  straw  was  placed  were  never  changed 
or  even  washed  in  all  that  time. 

No  amusement  was  ever  allowed  in  camp.  We 
learned  that  there  were  provisions  for  the  arrange- 
ment of  sports,  concerts,  and  such  things  but  these 
provisions  were  mere  ** scraps  of  paper"  and  seemed 
to  us  to  have  been  made  chiefly  for  the  purpose  of 
impressing  visiting  ambassadors.  We  were  even 
forbidden  to  play  cards  but  managed  to  keep  at  it 
pretty  steadily  just  the  same,  and  got  considerable 
amusement  in  gambling  with  the  imitation  money 
they  gave  us  in  payment  for  our  work.  There  was 
no  way  to  spend  this  so  we  did  the  next  best  thing. 

Poker  was  introduced  into  the  camp  by  the  Cana- 
dians and  it  very  soon  ousted  all  the  regular  Old- 
Country  games  such  as  Banker,  Pontoon,  etc.  It 
was  no  unusual  sight  to  see  five  or  six  poker  games 
in  progress  at  once  in  the  English  barracks.  At 
first  the  Germans  would  rush  in  and  grab  the  cards 
and  money  but  we  became  so  adept  at  hiding  such 
stuff'  that  before  a  sentry  could  get  from  the  door 
to  the  table  everything  would  have  disappeared 
and  nothing  would  be  left  as  evidence  of  infraction 
of  the  rules.  Of  course  we  were  searched  and  of 
course  we  all  professed  innocence  while  the  sentry 
would  go  through  us.  He  rarely  found  anything 
and  would  usually  stalk  out,  grunting  and  muttering 
to  himself. 

After  a  time  Wallie  and  I  became  more  than  "fed 
up"  with  the  continual  grind  of  these  slave-drivers 
and  the  never-ending  torment  of  abuse  we  dared 
not  resent,  until  existence  seemed  scarcely  worth 
while.  We  both  managed  to  get  into  the  hospital 
two  or  three  times  by  inflicting  injuries  on  ourselves 
and  on  each  other.  Once  I  persuaded  Wallie  to 
push  a  loaded  coal  car  over  my  toes,  and  this  smashed 


132  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

them  badly.  That  put  me  into  the  hospital  for  two 
weeks.  When  I  came  out  I  "took  the  fever,"  and 
was  paraded  before  the  old  camp  doctor  with  a  red- 
hot  stone  wrapped  in  a  handkerchief  under  each 
armpit.  I  got  the  stones  out  just  before  my  turn 
for  examination  and  staggered  up  before  the  doctor 
looking  like  death  and  really  suffering. 

"  KrankF"  he  asked,  roughly  and  laconically. 

"  Ja,  ja,  viely  viel  krank"  (very,  very  sick).  I  ex- 
plained further,  in  the  best  German  I  could  muster, 
that  I  had  terrible  pains  in  my  head,  had  a  sick 
stomach,  and  couldn't  eat;  in  fact,  I  gave  him  all 
the  symptoms  I  had  ever  heard  mentioned  having 
anything  to  do  with  fever,  and  I  guess  a  few  more. 

The  old  savage  snorted  in  disgust  and  waved  me 
aside  so  that  my  temperature  might  be  taken  by  a 
French  orderly  who  was  sometimes  called  on  to  help 
him.  The  thermometer  was  inserted  under  my  arm, 
in  due  time  removed,  and  passed  back  for  inspec- 
tion. After  one  glance  at  it  he  hustled  me  off  into 
the  Revierstuhe  and  ordered  me  to  bed,  cursing  the 
Canadians  all  the  time  for  being  "immery  immer 
krank"  (always  sick).  When  the  doctor  was  gone 
the  orderly  informed  me  with  a  wink  that  I  had  fever 
very  badly,  so  badly,  in  fact,  that  the  doctor  scarcely 
expected  me  to  recover.  My  temperature  had  al- 
ready reached  the  known  high-water  mark  and  if  it 
went  higher  I  would  be  a  "goner."  I  smiled  to  my- 
self and  settled  back  among  the  fleas,  being  pretty 
well  satisfied  that  I  should  have  at  least  two  weeks 
more  of  rest. 

How  did  I  manage  to  keep  sick.?  Well,  another 
little  story  hangs  around  that.  I  had  managed  to 
bring  in  a  little  German  flashlight  with  me.  This  I 
chucked  up  in  my  armpit  every  day  about  the  time 
I  knew  the  doctor  was  coming  round  and  this  was 


FREEDOM  SHORTLIVED  133 

kept  there  till  just  before  Frencliy  would  take  my 
temperature.  I  kept  it  up  as  long  as  I  dared  and 
when  finally  the  old  chap  began  to  get  suspicious 
I  simply  had  to  get  better  and  go  back  to  work  again. 

When  I  got  back  I  found  that  the  old  German 
Steiger  I  had  been  working  with  was  also  in  the  hos- 
pital so  I  decided  to  join  the  "Sleepers."  Some  of 
the  boys  went  down  in  the  first  cages  in  the  morning 
and  instead  of  sitting  about,  made  their  way  back 
to  an  old  working  and  spent  the  time  sleeping,  with 
one  of  the  number  on  watch.  They  were  wakened 
again  in  time  to  get  up  with  the  shift  and  were  able 
to  keep  this  thing  up  for  quite  a  while  without  being 
discovered.  It  was  decidedly  dangerous  back  there 
in  the  old  workings  with  the  roof  threatening  £0  fall 
every  minute  and  running  the  risk  of  discovery  and 
due  punishment  by  the  guards  but  it  meant  a  good 
deal  easier  time  and  meant  also  that  so  much  less 
coal  was  being  mined  for  Germany. 

In  the  meantime,  WalHe  and  I  were  steadily  plan- 
ning to  escape.  Every  day,  while  we  walked  out 
through  the  dark  levels  in  the  morning  and  back 
in  again  at  night,  we  talked  and  schemed.  A  hundred 
different  plans  were  discussed  but  each  turned  down 
as  impracticable  until  finally  we  decided  on  the  bold- 
est one  of  all.  While  this  proved  remarkably  suc- 
cessful in  getting  us  out  of  the  camp  and  away  from 
the  guards  for  a  while,  it  unfortunately  led  to  greater 
suffering  in  the  end. 

Provision  against  escape,  particularly  of  the  Brit- 
ish prisoners,  seemed  to  be  entirely  adequate.  The 
camp  was  small  and  well  guarded.  Our  barracks' 
were  long  and  narrow  with  a  wing  jutting  out  from 
the  south  side  forming  an  L.  The  north  and  west 
sides  were  built  right  up  against  the  main  street  of 
the  little  mining  town  of  Hulls.     We  were  only  al- 


134  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

lowed  in  a  small  space  to  the  south  of  the  building, 
about  forty  yards  long  by  six  wide.  The  south  of 
this  space,  again,  was  guarded  by  a  barbed-wire  fence 
sixteen  feet  high,  closely  woven.  While  there  was  no 
electrically-charged  wire,  as  there  was  at  other 
camps,  there  was  another  heavy  fence  of  hardwood 
palings  bolted  to  iron  rails  about  six  feet  outside 
the  wire.  There  w^ere  no  doors  opening  from  the 
barracks  except  to  this  compound  on  the  south  and 
all  the  windows  were  heavily  guarded  with  bars 
about  an  inch  in  diameter.  There  were  guards 
all  round  but  an  extra  sentry  was  always  on  duty 
in  front  of  the  English  barracks.  Our  British  com- 
rades assured  us  that  to  try  and  break  out  meant 
certain  death,  but  WalHe  and  I  decided  to  take  a 
chance. 

Since  the  French,  who  occupied  the  east  end  of  the 
barracks,  were  a  good  deal  more  ready  to  knuckle 
under  to  the  guards  and  were  consequently  in  a  good 
deal  better  odour  with  them,  we  figured  that  it  would 
be  better  to  make  the  break  in  this  part  of  the  yard. 
After  long  planning  we  finally  decided  that  our 
scheme  would  be  to  file  through  the  wires  about 
five  o'clock  some  afternoon,  and  to  get  away  by 
tossing  a  rope  ladder  over  the  picket  fence  outside. 
We  had  no  hope  of  getting  away  without  being  seen 
but,  as  Walhe  put  it,  we  had  to  "take  a  chance  on  the 
'square-heads'  shooting  straight."  Desperate?  Yes, 
I  suppose  it  was.  But  we  were  undergoing  desper- 
ate treatment  and  were  quite  ready  for  desperate 
measures  if  they  offered  but  a  bare  chance  for  free- 
dom. 

The  first  thing  to  do,  obviously — as  the  recipe  puts 
it — ^was  to  get  our  file.  And  here  some  more  long- 
fetched  scheming  was  necessary.  First,  I  had  to  go 
back  to  work.     I  had  a  finger  ring  which  was  very. 


FREEDOM  SHORTLIVED  135 

tight  and  I  began  fussing  and  complaining  about  it. 
This  was  kept  up  till  the  old  German  with  whom  I 
was  working  got  sick  of  hearing  me  whine  and  brought 
a  file  down  to  cut  the  ring  off.  I  tried  to  get  hold  of 
the  file  myself  but  no,  there  was  "nothing  doing." 
He  was  wise  enough  to  cut  through  the  ring  himself, 
and,  furthermore,  he  kept  it,  putting  it  in  his  pocket 
and  taking  it  home. 

Finally  we  "borrowed"  a  file  from  a  Russian  who 
was  making  food  boxes  for  the  British  prisoners.  I 
haven't  returned  it  yet. 

We  had  planned  to  make  our  getaway  on  Sunday, 
November  2d,  and  everything  was  ready  so  far  as 
we  could  make  it.  On  Saturday  night,  however, 
while  Wallie  and  I  were  scouting  round  the  yard, 
as  we  had  been  doing  for  some  time,  getting  a  line  on 
everything,  we  saw  the  commandant  and  an  old 
civilian  carpenter  looking  at  the  fence  near  the  spot 
where  we  had  intended  breaking  through.  Walking 
slowly  past  and  straining  our  ears,  we  managed  to 
hear  just  enough  to  understand  that  they  were  plan- 
ning to  put  a  sentry  box  there.  The  weather  was  get- 
ting cold  and  wet  and  some  protection  seemed  to  be 
needed.  The  commandant  suggested  cutting  a  hole 
in  the  outside  fence  and  placing  the  box  up  against  it. 
This  seemed  a  piece  of  good  fortune  so  we  decided  to 
put  off  our  attempt  till  the  hole  was  cut.  This  was 
done  on  Monday  and  the  box  was  put  in  place  but 
we  soon  saw  that  they  had  forgotten  to  fasten  it. 
Wednesday  was  a  public  holiday.  These  the  Ger- 
mans always  kept  scrupulously,  working  a  double 
shift  next  day  to  make  up.  We  chose  the  holiday 
evening  because  there  were  always  more  men  around 
in  the  barracks  yard  on  a  Sunday  or  a  holiday  after- 
noon and  our  movements  would  not  be  so  noticeable. 

About  five  o'clock  the  French  kindled  their  fires 


136  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

for  cooking  along  the  wire  fence.  That  Wednesday 
night  the  wind  favoured  us  since  it  blew  the  smoke 
across  the  sentry's  beat.  This  led  him  to  stop  and 
turn  about  halfway  down.  Then,  everything  ready, 
I  went  over  and  squatted  down  by  the  fence,  talking 
to  a  Frenchman  at  his  fire  and  when  I  saw  the  guard's 
back  turned,  filed  away  at  the  wires.  I  knew  the 
thing  had  to  be  done  quickly  so  when  the  moment 
came  I  broke  the  wire  away,  crawled  through  the 
opening,  pushed  back  the  sentry  box,  and  flattened 
myself  against  the  paling  fence  until  the  guard  came 
down  and  turned  again.  Say,  when  he  passed  he  was 
so  close  that  his  bayonet  was  not  more  than  a  foot 
from  my  nose.  Then  came  Wallie's  turn.  He  got 
caught  coming  through  the  wire  and  I  thought  it  was 
all  up  with  us,  for  to  be  discovered  in  that  plight 
meant  death — quick  and  sure.  Since,  when  a  pris- 
oner is  caught  by  the  guards  of  his  own  camp  he  is 
never  taken  back,  but  is  killed  on  the  spot  as  an  ex- 
ample to  his  comrades. 

In  the  nick  of  time  he  broke  free,  and  crawled 
through  beside  me  just  as  the  guard  came  down  again. 
This  time  he  stopped  for  a  minute  beside  his  box, 
cursing  the  French  for  making  so  much  smoke. 
We  were  getting  the  same  smoke,  a  good  deal  worse, 
too,  but  it  was  a  blessing  for  us.  You  see  that  sentry 
box  was  tipped  out  at  quite  a  considerable  angle 
since  there  wasn't  enough  room  for  us  between  it  and 
the  fence,  and  if  he  had  stopped  to  step  inside  or  even 
to  look  at  it  we  would  have  been — well,  "in  the 
gravy."  However,  a  moment  later  he  moved  off' 
again  and  we  were  able  to  get  through  the  hole  and 
push  the  box  back  into  its  place.  We  had  arranged 
with  two  of  our  friends.  Jack  O'Brien,  of  the  28th 
Battalion,  and  Blacklock,  of  the  Canadian  Engineers, 
to  fix  up  the  hole  in  the  wire  fence.     We  have  found 


FREEDOM  SHORTLIVED  137 

out  since  that  they  did  this  so  well  that  the  guards 
were  three  days  in  finding  where  the  hole  had  been 
made. 

We  crawled  along  through  a  glare  of  light  and 
sneaked  into  a  big  wood  pile  in  the  centre  of  the  rail- 
way yard.  This  gave  us  shelter  for  the  time  being 
while  we  planned  the  next  move;  the  first  one  had 
turned  out  even  better  than  we  had  dared  to  hope. 
This  place  was  surrounded  by  buildings  and  high 
fences  so  our  troubles  were  not  yet  over.  We  did 
wander  carefully  down  toward  the  main  gate  but 
there  were  a  lot  of  civilians  about  and  we  didn't  care 
to  risk  it.  Sneaking  through  between  the  ^'  Kokerie  " 
and  a  big  brick  kiln  we  crawled  in  behind  a  pile  of 
bricks  and  dug  a  hole  under  the  fence.  Through 
this,  we  crossed  the  railway,  climbed  over  a  small 
mountain  of  slack  from  the  mine,  and  came  out 
on  a  bit  of  open,  scrubby  land,  the  first  spot  of  it  all 
which  had  not  been  at  least  fairly  well  lighted. 

And  there  we  drew  our  first  breath  of  freedom. 
My  heart  felt  as  if  it  would  burst,  and  as  we  silently 
clasped  hands  there  in  the  semi-darkness,  Wallie 
whispered,  brokenly:  "Oh,  God,  Mac,  how  good  it 
is!" 

But  the  hardest  part  was  still  to  come.  We  knew 
we  had  no  time  to  lose,  so  struck  off  at  a  good  sharp 
pace  in  a  northwesterly  direction,  aiming  to  strike 
the  River  Lippe,  a  big  branch  of  the  Rhine,  at  the 
tow^n  of  Haltern,  where  the  railway  crossed.  We  had 
a  map,  a  compass,  and  a  few  matches  but  as  the  stars 
were  bright  we  scarcely  needed  to  look  at  the  com- 
pass. Othei"wise  our  outfit  consisted  of  a  few  bis- 
cuits we  had  saved  from  our  parcels  during  the  pre- 
vious few  weeks. 

As  we  sneaked  silently  along,  looking  behind  us 
occasionally  and  avoiding  every  road  and  farmhouse, 


138  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

the  lights  of  Hiils  and  the  camp  soon  disappeared 
but  the  glare  of  the  red-hot  "brands"  of  coke,  which 
glowed  brightly  as  they  were  pushed  from  the  ovens, 
could  be  plainly  seen  for  a  long  distance. 

After  a  little  time  we  reached  the  river  just  below 
the  railway  bridge  but  found  it  pretty  wide  and  so 
cold  that  swimming  it  was  out  of  the  question.  We 
were  up  against  the  first  serious  obstacle.  Working 
up  along  the  bank  in  the  willows  we  came  unex- 
pectedly in  sight  of  the  long,  high  railway  bridge, 
and  in  lack  of  any  better  way,  decided  to  climb  the 
third  pier,  which  was  at  the  water's  edge,  hoping 
in  this  way  to  evade  the  guard,  who,  we  thought, 
would  most  likely  be  at  the  end  of  the  bridge  on  our 
side  of  the  river. 

Stepping  cautiously  out  of  the  willows  in  the 
shadow  of  the  big  pier  we  got  within  a  few  feet  of  the 
base  and  began  to  congratulate  ourselves  that  mat- 
ters were  going  well  when  with  a  jolt  a  harsh  German 
voice  yelled  *^  Halt  /"  and  a  rifle  went  off,  seemingly 
right  in  my  face.  It  was  so  close  that  the  bullet 
carried  my  cap  off  my  head.  We  turned  and  ran 
while  that  guard  pumped  round  after  round  after 
us  as  fast  as  he  could  load.  While  it  is  almost  certain 
that  he  saw  us,  his  shooting  was  mighty  poor.  Per- 
haps he  was  about  as  badly  scared  as  we  were. 
Anyway,  the  only  effect  the  shooting  had  was  to 
make  us  get  over  the  ground  a  good  deal  more 
quickly.  Wallie  insisted  on  trying  to  swim  across 
and  slipped  into  the  water,  but  I  had  to  pull  him 
out  and  give  him  half  of  my  dry  clothing  to  keep  him 
from  freezing. 

We  expected  a  patrol  would  be  sent  to  follow  us  up 
so  searched  desperately  for  a  boat  or  anything  else 
which  would  get  us  across  the  river.  Finally  after 
about   an    hour,   during   which   we   wandered   into 


FREEDOM  SHORTLIVED  139 

half  a  dozen  dangerous  spots,  we  glimpsed  a  light 
on  the  bank — which  looked  promising.  This  turned 
out  to  be  a  lantern  in  the  window  of  a  house  just 
beside  a  pier.  And  when  we  investigated  a  little 
further  we  found  a  big  iron  barge  tied  up  to  the 
wharf.  We  climbed  aboard  the  barge  right  under 
the  nose  of  the  owners.  And  it  was  only  a  moment's 
work  to  cut  the  mooring  ropes  and  to  push  off  with  a 
long  pole  we  found  aboard  her.  The  barge  was 
empty,  fortunately,  but  every  move  we  made 
sounded  to  us  as  if  it  must  be  heard  in  Berlin.  We 
didn't  get  away  any  too  soon,  either,  for  as  the 
swift  current  caught  hold  of  us  and  carried  us  a 
little  down  stream  we  saw  lights  begin  to  dance 
around  on  the  bank  and  heard  German  curses — 
meant  to  be  exceedingly  terrifying  but  which  then 
affected  us  little — thrown  most  heartily  across  the 
muddy  waters. 

We  shouted  back  the  advice  which  seemed  most 
suitable  under  the  circumstances:  "Go  to  hell." 
And  Wallie  muttered,  as  he  laboured  mightily  with 
the  push  pole:  "It's  only  a  matter  of  time  till  they 
get  there,  anyhow." 

We  landed  with  some  difficulty  at  a  safe-looking 
spot  some  distance  down  the  river  and  sent  the  barge 
merrily  on  its  way  so  that  it  would  not  tell  the  story 
of  our  trail.  Then,  making  our  way  cautiously 
through  the  low  fields  along  the  bank  to  higher 
ground,  we  began  actually  to  travel.  We  kept 
going  at  a  good  pace  till  day  began  to  break,  skirting 
villages  and  farmhouses  and  sometimes  crossing 
small  strips  of  bush. 

One  of  the  big  problems  was  that  of  finding  satis- 
factory cover  when  we  were  forced  to  keep  out  of 
sight  during  the  day.  This  was  thickly  settled 
country.     Villages  and  houses  were  very  frequent. 


I40  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

so  much  so  that  again  and  again  we  ran  onto  them 
without  at  all  expecting  it.  Further,  Germany  has 
gone  in  very  strongly  for  reforestation  and  while 
every  bit  of  swam.p  or  barren  land  is  planted  with 
trees,  these  are  not  thick,  and  are  laid  out  in  straight 
rows,  so  that  they  do  not  furnish  very  good  hiding- 
places.  Imagine  wandering  through  a  strange  coun- 
try at  night — the  darker  the  better  for  our  purposes 
— travelling  only  in  a  general  direction,  toward  the 
frontier,  only  able  to  look  at  the  map  at  odd  moments 
and  then  with  difficulty,  and  not  knowing  what  the 
next  moment  was  to  bring  forth.  Our  nerves  were 
always  keyed  up  to  the  highest  tension  and  we 
could  almost  feel  any  approaching  danger  before 
sight  or  sound  had  warned  us  of  it.  It  was  part  of 
our  business  to  find  cover  so  soon  as  daylight  began 
to  appear,  and  since  it  was  not  always  possible  to 
find  a  patch  of  woods  we  made  the  most  of  swamps, 
holes,  culverts,  or  anything  else  that  offered. 

The  nights  at  that  time  of  the  year  were  long  and 
dark  and  we  were  able  to  travel  pretty  steadily, 
although  we  had  to  be  exceedingly  careful.  Several 
times  we  got  into  pretty  close  contact  Vv'ith  patrols 
and  also  passed  within  sight  of  lights  which  we  knew 
must  be  those  of  prison  camps. 

One  of  the  worst  things  we  had  to  contend  with 
was  the  sudden  and  unwarned  attacks  of  dogs. 
Prowling  around  the  edge  of  a  town,  for  instance,  or 
passing  in  the  shadow  of  a  farmhouse,  with  every 
facult}'^  on  the  look-out  for  danger,  it  was  no  small 
thing  to  have  a  lean,  hungry  cur  leap  out  at  us  and 
make  the  air  ring  with  his  barking.  We  always 
managed  to  dispose  of  these  poor  brutes  with  our 
sticks  or  by  kicking,  but  our  highly  strung  nerves 
never  got  used  to  these  sudden  attacks. 

We  didn't  dare  to  follow  the  roads,  for  even  during 


FREEDOM  SHORTLIVED  141 

the  lonely  hours  of  the  night  there  was  always  more 
or  less  traffic,  and,  near  the  Border,  patrols  were 
passing  incessantly.  On  the  other  hand,  the  fields 
were  wet  and  muddy;  all  of  which  made  mighty 
tough  travelling  for  such  wet,  hungry,  and  miserable 
tramps  as  by  that  time  we  were.  Still  the  lust  for 
freedom  kept  our  spirits  up  and  we  were  ready  for 
anything  in  the  way  of  hardship  or  danger,  so  long 
as  a  chance  remained  of  getting  out  of  the  hands  of 
the  devilish  Germans.  One  or  two  instances  will 
show  how  exceedingly  narrow  some  of  our  escapes 
were.  Indeed,  after  a  time  narrow  escapes  became 
such  ordinaiy  events  that  we  didn't  think  much 
about  them. 


CHAPTER  X 
Into  Holland,  But ! 

One  cold  morning,  tired  and  wet  and  miserable, 
we  stopped  at  what  seemed  a  sheltered  spot  at  the 
edge  of  a  bush,  to  kindle  a  little  fire  to  thaw  ourselves 
out.  The  fire  was  just  going  nicely  and  beginning 
to  furnish  a  little  comfort  when  we  heard  a  rooster's 
shrill  crowing  seemingly  right  beside  us.  Quickly 
stamping  out  the  tell-tale  fire  we  listened.  Soon 
another  spoke,  and  in  a  few  minutes  crowing  came 
from  all  around  us.  It  was  so  dark  we  couldn't 
see  anything.     One  way  was  as  bad  as  another. 

So  we  stretched  ourselves  out  on  our  wet  coats, 
over  the  spot  where  the  fire  had  been,  to  wait  for 
daylight.  Soon  voices  came  out  of  the  mist  around 
us  and  a  threshing  machine  started  its  drumming 
close  by.  You  can  imagine  that  when  it  got  a 
little  lighter  we  were  glad  to  see  a  bit  of  scrub  off 
to  one  side;  to  this  we  made  our  way  as  quietly  as 
possible.  There  we  stayed  all  day.  Late  in  the 
afternoon  a  German,  with  a  dog  and  a  gun,  came 
along  by  the  bush  and  passed  very  close  to  us.  The 
dog  sniffed  suspiciously  and  ran  around  where  we 
had  entered  the  patch,  giving  little,  sharp  yelps. 
The  man  got  his  gun  down  and  began  peering  into 
the  bush.  We  began  to  wonder  what  was  about  to 
happen.  But  luck  came  our  way  again.  Just  as 
we  were  getting  ready  to  go  for  this  beggar  with 
our  sticks  a  rabbit  sprang  out  from  a  hole  near  by 

142 


INTO  HOLLAND,  BUT !  143 

and  was  off  past  us,  followed,  of  course,  by  the  hound 
and  the  hunter.  Since  a  good-sized  reward  is  offered 
for  the  capture  of  any  escaped  prisoner  and  a  German 
civiHan  has  the  right  to  shoot  any  suspicious  charac- 
ters on  sight  we  were  mightily  pleased  to  see  him  go 
but  just  ungrateful  enough  to  hope  that  he  would 
lose  the  rabbit. 

After  five  nights  of  such  travel  we  decided  we  had 
travelled  far  enough  north  and  should  strike  due 
west  for  the  Border  of  Holland.  It  was  largely 
a  matter  of  guess  work.  Our  map  had  gone  to 
pieces  with  the  rain.  Our  matches  had  suffered 
seriously  from  the  same  cause.  Indeed,  since  we 
were  wet  to  the  skin  continuously  it  was  impossible 
to  keep  anything  dry.  Thus  on  dark  nights  we  were 
utterly  helpless,  so  far  as  direction  was  concerned. 
We  came  across  an  occasional  landmark,  of  course, 
but  over  there — as  most  of  us  have  found  out  in 
•even  a  very  little  travel  at  home — things  look  vastly 
different  at  night. 

Striking  west,  however,  as  far  as  we  knew,  we 
concluded  from  the  increasing  number  of  patrols  we 
encountered  that  we  were  nearing  the  Border.  We 
sneaked  to  within  hearing  distance  of  houses  which 
good  evidence  told  us  were  full  of  German  troops  and 
evaded  patrol  after  patrol  and  sentry  after  sentry. 
From  what  we  heard  we  judged  that  the  guards 
must  know  something  of  our  whereabouts  and  were 
specially  on  the  look-out  for  us.  (When  any  escapes 
occur  the  guards  are  specially  warned  and  given 
descriptions  of  the  missing  prisoners.  If  they  are 
seen  along  the  way,  or  leave  any  traces,  this  informa- 
tion also  is  made  good  use  of.)  Here,  again,  travelling 
was  more  than  usually  difficult,  the  ground  being  so 
swampy  that  it  was  impossible  to  get  along  anywhere 
but  on  the  roads.     Then  for  four  miles  from  the 


144  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

Border  the  roads  were  constantly  patrolled  by  guards 
— some  on  horses,  others  on  bicycles — and  sentries 
on  short  beats  were  placed  at  narrow  distances 
apart.  Again  and  again  when  a  patrol  approached 
we  were  forced  off  the  road  and  into  the  swamps. 
The  guards  always  stopped  where  we  left  the  road 
but  did  not  dare  to  urge  their  horses  into  the  swamp. 
They  were  pretty  certain,  anyway,  that  we  would 
not  be  able  to  get  over  the  Border.  This  worked 
out  to  our  advantage  in  an  unexpected  way,  for  as 
these  patrols  passed  along  the  roads  they  warned 
each  sentry.  He,  in  his  turn,  kept  his  lamp  burning, 
the  better  to  discern  us,  I  suppose,  when  we  came 
within  range.  However,  this  revealed  their  positions 
to  us  and  helped  us  to  get  around  several  dangerous 
spots. 

A  drizzling  rain  had  started  early  in  the  evening 
which  later  developed  into  a  terrific  storm.  After 
midnight  we  had  to  fight  our  way  against  a  fierce, 
bitter  wind  which  drove  the  rain  and  sleet  into  our 
faces  and  lashed  about  our  gaunt  and  ragged  bodies 
like  a  fiend.  Starved  and  nearly  frozen  we  fought 
olF  the  feeling  of  m.isery  and  despair  that  almost 
conquered  us  again  and  again  and  held  grimly  on, 
buoying  ourselves  up  with  the  belief  that  freedom 
was  near  at  hand.  The  storm  got  so  furious  that 
the  patrols  took  cover  wherever  they  could  find  it, 
and  left  the  road  unguarded,  concluding,  no  doubt, 
that  we  also  would  be  forced  to  look  for  shelter. 
But  we  held  on  and  soon  came  to  a  long  line  of  sen- 
tries on  an  old  road.  As  far  as  we  could  see  their 
lights  shone  out  in  the  driving  rain  and  they  stamped 
and  swore  in  their  harsh  German  voices.  After  a 
Vv'hile  we  found  a  spot  where  a  ditch  ran  up  into 
the  field,  making  an  opening  in  the  hedge  skirting  the 
road.     Crawling  through  the  hole  on  our  stomachs, 


INTO  HOLLAND,  BUT !  145 

almost  m  full  view  of  a  sentry's  lamp,  we  wriggled 
along  like  snakes  till  we  felt  we  were  a  safe  dis- 
tance behind  the  line  and  then  got  on  our  feet 
and  drove  ahead  again,  keeping  to  the  west,  so  far 
as  we  could  judge  it. 

For  an  hour  we  kept  moving  and  not  a  soul  was 
seen  or  heard.  Our  hopes  ran  high.  We  felt  that 
our  troubles  were  nearly  at  an  end.  Suddenly 
another  long  row  of  lights  loomed  up  in  the  darkness, 
and  we  soon  came  to  another  row  of  sentries  ap- 
parently much  the  same  as  those  we  had  passed. 
After  some  little  whispered  discussion  we  came  to 
the  conclusion  that  these  must  be  Dutch  sentries 
but  rather  than  take  any  chance  v/e  decided  to 
try  to  get  past  them  and  further  into  the  country 
before  revealing  ourselves.  Again  we  got  down  on 
our  stomachs  and  crawled  cautiously  over  the  road. 
We  were  considerably  puzzled  when  we  began  to 
meet  patrols  which  forced  us  again  into  the  swamps, 
but  just  about  daybreak  we  passed  the  last  of  these, 
after  which  v<fe  travelled  along  with  less  difficulty. 

Oh,  for  a  look  at  that  map!  If  we  ever  wanted 
anything  it  was  that.  But  just  then  it  was  out  of 
the  question. 

Coming  into  the  outskirts  of  a  little  town  we  saw 
a  chance.  Getting  as  closely  as  we  dared  to  a  lighted 
window  we  tried  to  piece  together  the  mass  of  pulp 
to  which  our  map  had  been  reduced.  In  our  anxiety 
we  must  have  gone  too  close  to  the  window  for  we 
were  startled  by  a  shrill  scream  and  I  caught  a 
moment's  glimpse  of  a  rather  pretty  girl  in  a  lace- 
trimmed  nightdress.  As  she  drew  back  from  the 
window  we  slipped  away  into  the  darkness. 

We  believed  we  had  crossed  the  Border  and  our 
spirits  rose  at  every  step.  Following  a  well-paved 
road  that  seemed  to  be  running  southward,   and 


146  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

fighting  off  fatigue  which  almost  overcame  us — 
half  the  time  spurring  ourselves  to  run  to  keep  warm 
— ^we  very  shortly  hit  a  good-sized  town.  It  was 
now  early  morning.  We  were  so  sure  we  were  safe 
that  we  decided  to  stop  here  and  ask  how  far  we  had 
come  into  Holland.  Making  our  way  down  the 
main  street  we  met  a  couple  of  soldiers  in  dark  blue 
uniforms,  decorated  with  a  double  row  of  brass 
buttons.  They  stared  at  us  and  we  stared  back, 
but  the  colour  of  their  uniforms  reassured  us  and 
we  kept  on.  They  followed  us  at  a  little  distance 
till  we  came  to  a  railway  crossing  where  several 
guards  were  posted.  They  held  us  up,  asked  us  a 
few  questions,  and  then  roughly  seized  us  and  hurried 
us  off  to  a  big  guard  room  in  the  centre  of  the  town. 

We  had  been  in  Holland  and,  without  knowing 
it,  turned  around  and  crawled  out  again! — passing 
the  German  sentries  again  and  thinking  them  to  be 
Dutch. 

Was  the  irony  of  fate  ever  so  manifest  .f* 

The  soldiers  we  had  met  outside  the  town  were 
uniformed  differently  from  the  ones  we  had  seen  in 
France.     Hence    our    confusion.     If  we    had    only 

known.     If  that   map Oh,   if  any   one   of  a 

dozen  things  hadn't  been  as  it  was! 

In  the  guard  room  we  found  that  we  had  made 
our  way  into  the  German  fortress  town  of  Wesel, 
about  twelve  miles  inside  the  German  frontier. 
And  we  thought  we  had  been  forcing  our  way  through 
that  storm  into  Holland. 

Naturally  we  were  about  the  most  surprised,  most 
disgusted,  and  most  heart-broken  Canadians  in 
Europe.  How  the  mistake  had  occurred  we  couldn't 
then  imagine.  We  found  out,  though,  later — when 
one  of  the  boys  in  camp  showed  us  a  map  and  we 
looked  up  the  little  town  of  Burlo  which  we  had 


INTO  HOLLAND,  BUT !  147 

passed  that  night  and  found  the  point  of  Holland 
which  we  had  crossed  extending  down  into  Germany. 

Close  to  the  guard  room  was  a  big  artillery  bar- 
racks. All  morning  the  German  officers  and  N.C.O.'s 
were  coming  in  and  out  to  look  at  us  and  they 
seemed  to  be  greatly  amused  at  our  appearance. 
Huddled  in  a  corner,  as  we  were;  completely  broken 
down  with  cold,  hunger,  and  fatigue;  ragged  and 
dirty,  with  scraggly  beards  and  long,  unkempt  hair, 
our  misery  would  surely  have  awakened  sympathy 
in  the  heart  of  any  civilized  human  being.  Not  so 
with  these  fellows,  however.  Almost  every  one  of 
them  taunted  and  ridiculed  us.  One  big  raw-boned 
old  sergeant-major,  with  high-top  boots,  spurs,  and 
spiked  helmet,  came  stalking  in,  his  long  sword 
clanking  at  his  heels.  A  loose  military  cape  re- 
vealed his  gaunt  frame;  his  fierce  eyes  and  bristling 
moustache  gave  him  a  most  ferocious  appearance. 
When  he  stood  in  front  of  us  and  took  in  our  desper- 
ate plight,  a  cruel  smile  spread  over  his  face.  The 
guard  roused  us  roughly  to  stand  to  Attention  while 
that  old  beggar  talked  to  us  and — wakened  suddenly 
out  of  a  stupor  of  fatigue — I  imagined  for  a  moment 
or  two  that  I  had  arrived  in  Hell  and  was  about  to 
be  interviewed  by  the  devil.  After  quizzing  us  for 
a  while  as  to  the  point  from  which  we  had  escaped 
and  why  we  had  come  to  fight  against  Deutschlandy 
he  poured  a  torrent  of  bitter  abuse  on  our  helpless 
heads  and  then  stamped  his  way  out,  evidently  well 
pleased  with  himself. 

About  half-past  eight  in  the  morning  a  guard  ar- 
rived from  Friedrichsfelde  Lager  (Camp),  about  three 
miles  from  Wesel,  to  take  us  to  the  prison  camp  there. 
When  we  started  he  opened  the  breech  of  his  rifle, 
showed  us  the  cartridge  with  their  big,  soft  Dum- 
dum  bullets,  and  threatened  what   would  happen 


148  THE  KAISER  S  GUEST 

should  we  attempt  to  escape.  We  forced  ourselves 
to  laugh  at  him  and  told  him,  in  what  broken  German 
we  could  muster,  that  we  had  seen  thousands  of  them 
in  France  and  didn't  care  a  d — n  for  him  or  them. 
Probably  our  irony  was  lost  on  him  but  it  was  heart- 
ening to  get  it  off,  anyway.  He  raged  at  us  and 
threatened  all  kinds  of  punishment  while  he  drove  us 
like  cattle  along  the  street  toward  the  lager. 

This  was  Sunday,  and  when  we  arrived  in  the  camp 
it  was  out  of  the  question  for  our  clothes  to  be  given 
the  distinguishing  stripes  awarded  prisoners  because 
the  tailor's  shop  was  closed.  So  we  were  lodged  in 
the  German  guard  room  and  kept  there  till  three 
o'clock  the  following  day.  Most  of  the  time  we  had 
to  stand  in  a  corner.  If  we  ventured  to  sit  down  one 
of  the  guards  would  rush  over  and  start  to  kick  and 
abuse  us  and  by  that  time,  as  you  may  imagine, 
we  were  almost  ready  to  do  anything  to  avoid  further 
ill-treatment. 

A  little  happier  time  came  next  day  and  hope  and 
courage  returned  to  a  large  degree,  when,  after  our 
clothes  were  marked,  we  were  turned  loose  in  the 
camp  enclosure.  Here  we  met  some  old  friends 
who  gave  us  a  mighty  fine  welcome,  food  and  cloth- 
ing, and  bucked  us  up  generally.  Everyone  in  the 
British  camp  could  appreciate  what  kind  of  an  ex- 
perience we  had  been  through,  and  Canadians  and 
Old-Country  boys  seemed  to  be  in  competition  as  to 
who  could  do  the  most  for  us.  It  almost  seemed 
worth  while  again  to  be  alive. 

We  found  in  a  few  days  at  Friedrichsfelde  that 
while  the  camp  was  a  vastly  less  unpleasant  place 
than  the  mine  lager,  the  guards  there  were  also 
characteristically  German  and  made  the  lot  of  the 
prisoners  just  as  hard  as  was  possible.  There  was 
absolutely  no  excuse  for  this  since  Friedrichsfelde 


Crippled  prisoners  working  in  the  Bower  beds  at  Friedrichsfelde 

Cross  marks  the  spot  where  the  Author  and  h.s  fcllo.v-pnsoiitrs  were  forced  to  "Stand 
to  Attention"  till  they  agreed  to  work. 


INTO  HOLLAND,  BUT !  149 

was  a  Headquarters  camp  in  which  the  guards  had  no 
reason  whatever  for  annoying  or  abusing  the  prison- 
ers, but  we  were  not  allowed  to  have  any  fire  in  the 
barracks  though  the  weather  was  exceedingly  cold 
and  wet.  Then,  to  make  things  worse,  every  window 
had  to  be  kept  raised.  The  place  was  nearly  all 
windows  so  we  might  about  as  well  been  out  of  doors. 
We  were  forbidden  to  sit  on  our  beds  or  smoke  in 
the  barracks  and  were  hounded  about  from  place  to 
place  all  day  apparently  in  an  attempt  to  keep  us 
miserable. 

One  old  German  especially  troubled  us  a  great 
deaL  He  had  spent  a  good  part  of  his  life  in  England 
and  spoke  good  English,  but  he  hated  the  British 
bitterly.  He  had  a  little  pointed  beard,  and  a 
very  sharp  chin  which  soon  earned  him  the  nickname 
of*' Old  Chisel-chin." 

In  the  barracks  with  us  was  a  big  Irishman  who 
had  beaten  up  a  pro-German  interpreter  out  on  a 
working  party,  and  was  awaiting  his  trial  in  barracks, 
because  there  was  no  room  for  him  in  the  cells. 

One  cold  morning  we  were  sitting  about  the  camp 
half  frozen — Paddy  on  the  edge  of  his  bed — when 
Old  Chisel-chin  came  in.  He  flew  at  Paddy  and 
called  him  everything  but  a  gentleman,  but  Paddy 
sat  tight  and  pretended  ignorance  as  to  what  was  the 
matter,  until  the  old  German  began  telling  him  how 
ignorant  he  and  all  the  British  were.  *'As  ignorant 
as  pigs,"  he  shouted.  "Any  German  soldier  knows 
more  than  an  educated  Englishman." 

Paddy  could  stand  it  no  longer.  Jumping  up,  he 
glared  at  his  tormentor,  and  drawled  in  his  broadest 
Irish  brogue: 

"Sure  an'  it*s  a  d — n  liar  ye  are."  The  German 
made  a  rush  at  him,  but  a  glance  at  Paddy's  huge 
fists,  doubled  up  for  business,  caused  him  to  change 


"1 


ISO  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

his  mind,  and  he  whipped  out  a  book  and  pencil  to 
take  his  name  and  number. 

"What  is  your  name?"  he  shouted. 
'Tomlinson,"  said  Paddy. 
'  How  do  you  spell  it  ?  '* 

Paddy  glared  in  silence  for  a  minute,  and  then  said: 

"Sure,  an'  where's  yer  edycation,  yuh  square- 
headed  pig?" 

We  all  shouted  with  laughter,  but  Old  Chisel-chin 
flew  out  of  the  door  like  a  whirlwind,  and  Paddy  was 
soon  on  his  way  to  jail  between  two  glittering  bayo- 
nets. 

We  were  not  fated  to  remain  long  among  these 
conditions,  however,  for  in  a  few  days  a  guard  ar- 
rived from  K47 — our  old  and  detested  home,  the 
mine,  and  we  were  soon  back  again. 

We  had  been  away,  altogether,  two  weeks.  Nat- 
urally the  boys  all  thought  we  had  got  away  and  re- 
fused to  believe  otherwise  until  they  saw  us.  And 
you  may  imagine  the  sympathy  which  was  extended 
when  they  learned  of  our  hard  luck  and  the  fateful 
mix-up  at  the  Border. 

Arrived  at  the  camp  we  were  taken  into  the 
commandant's  office  and  were  asked  all  manner  of 
questions  about  our  escape — where  we  got  the  civilian 
clothes;  what  food  we  had,  and  how  we  got  it;  and 
so  on.  To  all  of  which  we  lied  carefully  and  thor- 
oughly. One  question  which  puzzled  us  a  good  deal 
was  a  reference  to  a  circus  and  what  part  we  had 
had  in  it.  Much  to  the  officer's  disgust  we  denied 
all  knowledge  of  such  an  affair,  and  it  was  rather 
peculiar  that  the  only  atom  of  truth  we  told  him  was 
disbelieved. 

We  found  out  from  the  boys  a  little  later  that  the 
circus  had  really  been  pulled  off  the  night  we  got 
away.     (When  they  were  never  allowed  anything  in 


INTO  HOLLAND,  BUT !  151 

the  way  of  recreation  the  only  thing  was  to  work 
something  up  and  spring  it  out  on  the  sly.  The 
guards  would  hear  the  noise  and  rush  in,  but  if  the 
affair  happened  to  be  amusing  they  sometimes  let  it 
go  on.  If  it  didn't  interest  them,  the  whole  camp 
would  get  some  special  punishment  the  next  day, 
with  an  extra  dose  handed  out  to  the  prime  movers — 
if  they  could  be  discovered.)  This  time  the  fellows 
had  managed  to  dress  up  a  big  Scotchman  to  look  like 
an  elephant  and  a  long,  lean  Canadian  as  a  giraffe, 
while  a  flock  of  smaller  animals  followed.  When 
the  procession  waddled  out  into  the  yard  the  sentry 
was  much  amused,  as  were  also  the  other  guards 
when  they  saw  what  was  going  on.  Perhaps  because 
they  hadn't  seen  so  much  meat  for  a  long  time.  So 
they  let  the  show  continue.  Next  day,  when  Wallie 
and  I  were  missed,  the  officials  naturally  thought  the 
affair  had  been  pulled  off  to  engage  the  attention  of 
the  guards  while  we  made  good  our  escape.  As  a 
result  the  "animals"  were  all  arrested  and  the  jail 
became  a  zoo  for  a  week  or  two. 

During  our  interview  with  the  commandant  we 
had  as  an  interpreter  a  little  Englishman,  Max  Good- 
man, who  was  certainly  a  brick.  Some  of  his  history 
is  interesting  enough  to  tell  here. 

He  had  been  studiang  in  France  when  the  war' 
broke  out  and  had  enlisted  in  the  Foreign  Legion, 
where  he  had  been  fighting  shoulder  to  shoulder  with 
men  of  every  nationality  under  heaven,  not  a  few  of 
them  Germans  and  Austrians.  Wounded  at  the 
Battle  of  the  Marne,  early  in  the  war,  he  was  sent  to 
Blighty  and  came  back  after  a  little  with  an  English 
regiment  only  to  be  wounded  again  and  taken  pris- 
oner. He  had  a  good  command  of  German  and  nat- 
urally soon  found  a  place  as  an  interpreter.  In  K47 
he  had  somehow  struck  up  an  acquaintance  with 


152  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

*'Slim  Ella,"  a  rather  good-looking  little  German 
girl  who  was  on  night  duty  at  the  canteen.  Quite 
occasionally  he  stole  a  march  on  the  jealous  and 
zealous  guards  and  slipped  through  the  canteen 
window  to  disappear  in  the  kitchen  behind,  where 
he  spent  the  time  with  Ella  while  she  was  waiting 
to  serve  soup  to  the  midnight  shift.  Daring,  eh? 
I  suppose  it  was,  but  Max  was  ready  for  almost  any- 
thing. After  a  while  he  was  recalled  to  Miinster 
Camp  and  kept  up  quite  a  vigorous  correspondence 
with  Ella  for  some  time,  the  letters  going  back  and 
forth  with  prisoners  going  to  and  returning  from  the 
hospital.     I  was  his  ambassador  once  or  twice. 

The  mere  reason  for  his  recall  to  Miinster  is  inter- 
esting in  itself.  If  he  liked  the  girl  Ella  he  certainly 
hated  the  Germans  generally  and  fought  against 
them  so  strongly  and  continuously  for  the  rights  of 
the  British  prisoners  that  the  guards  found  him  a 
considerable  nuisance  and  used  all  the  influence  they 
could  to  get  him  away  from  K47. 

Once  the  Miinster  officials  had  been  persuaded  to 
recall  him,  those  at  K47  had  no  more  authority  over 
him.  He  was  waiting  for  escort  when  Wallie  and 
I  were  brought  back  from  our  long  and  disastrous 
trip  toward  freedom,  and  he  was  the  means  of  having 
matters  made  a  good  deal  lighter  for  us  then. 

The  officer  and  the  guards  had  openly  boasted  as 
to  how  they  would  torture  Wallie  and  me  if  we  were 
caught — that  they  would  fix  us  so  that  we  would 
never  want  to  try  it  again.  Max  warned  them 
against  any  such  treatment  and  threatened  that  he 
would  report  them  on  his  return  to  Miinster.  An- 
other factor  also  had  something  to  do  with  it.  The 
post  of  commandant  at  Miinster  Camp  had — till  a 
short  time  previously — been  filled  by  an  old  soldier 
who  had  himself  been  a  prisoner  in  France  in  the  war 


INTO  HOLLAND,  BUT 1  153 

of  1870  and  who  had  been  known  on  occasion  to  show 
some  sympathy  for  the  prisoners.  This  man,  by  the 
way,  has  a  son  in  Winnipeg  now.  For  what  was 
considered  his  laxity  he  was  recalled  and  a  new  man 
placed  who  turned  out  to  be  a  real  German.  At  this 
time,  however,  the  new  commandant's  stand  on  the 
question  of  prison  camp  discipline  was  not  known 
and  since  he  had  jurisdiction  over  K47  Goodman's 
threat  had  considerable  effect.  As  a  matter  of  fact 
— so  wej  learned  later — it  was  the  means  of  staving 
off  a  part  of  the  punishment  which  had  been  planned 
for  us. 

In  any  event,  after  all  the  evidence  had  been  taken 
covering  our  case,  a  detailed  report  with  our  own 
written  statement  was  sent  in  to  the  "Court  of  Jus- 
tice" at  Munster.  A  little  time  afterward  our  sen- 
tence came  back  and  was  duly  awarded:  "Ten  days 
*  black'."     What  that  meant  I'll  tell  later. 

In  the  meantime,  Wallie  and  I  worked  a  few  days 
in  the  mines.  Then  they  changed  us  over  to  the  coke 
ovens,  which  was  to  be  the  worst  part  of  our  punish- 
ment. 


CHAPTER  XI 

Slave  Conditions  in  the  "Kokerie** 

Instead  of  going  to  work  I  joined  the  Sleepers 
again  but  misfortune  was  my  middle  name.  On  the 
second  day,  after  about  twenty-five  of  us  had  settled 
down  for  a  good  sleep  in  an  old,  deserted  working,  a 
pit-lamp  appeared  in  the  opening  and  the  light 
slowly  advanced  in  our  direction.  Soon  we  saw  a 
big,  black-whiskered  old  German,  with  massive, 
stooped  shoulders,  come  poking  along  the  road  ex- 
amining all  the  hanging  rock  and  broken  timbers. 
His  job  was  to  locate  any  accumulation  of  gas  that 
there  might  be  in  the  mine  and  to  get  rid  of  it  by 
blowing  it  out  with  compressed  air.  He  came  on 
slowly  till  he  nearly  stumbled  over  us.  There  we 
lay,  staring  up  at  him  with  eyes  as  big  as  saucers. 
But  he  was  a  wise  old  chap.  I  guess  he  knew  what 
would  have  happened  had  he  made  any  move  toward 
us.  He  stopped  and  held  his  lamp  above  his  head 
while  he  looked  over  the  walls  and  roof  but  never 
for  a  second  did  his  eyes  drop  to  the  ground.  Then, 
turning  about,  he  walked  slowl}^  back  again. 

Great  excitement  prevailed  for  some  time.  Som.e 
of  the  boys  had  been  sleeping  there  daily  for  months 
and  they  were  loath  to  believe  that  they  were  at  last 
caught.  Most  of  the  fellows  decided  to  go  back 
next  day,  however.  I  was  suspicious,  but  while  I 
didn't  go  to  work  I  went  to  another  deserted  working. 

Next  morning  about  ten  o'clock,  after  the  boys 


SL|W^ CONDITIONS  IN  THE  "KOKERIE"  155 

had  n«|p6ittled  down,  along  came  the  old  German 
again,  wtfs  time,  though,  he  had  about  a  hundred 
and  fifty  civilians  with  him,  all  armed  with  sticks, 
stones,  pieces  of  wire  cable,  and  anything  else  they 
could  lay  their  hands  on  in  the  line.  The  prisoners 
fought  like  wildcats  and  the  civilians  had  to  send 
up  for  the  guards  with  firearms.  When  they  arrived 
of  course  the  boys  had  no  alternative  but  to  come  out. 
Naturally  they  were  all  punished  and  then  set  back 
to  work  again.  For  a  few  weeks  they  kept  at  it,  but 
soon  the  boldest  of  them  went  back  to  sleeping  and 
the  whole  business  was  played  out  over  again. 

Wallie  and  I  were  switched  to  the  Kokerie  shortly 
after  this  first  fight  and  our  experiences  in  the  mine, 
bad  enough  as  they  had  been,  were  exchanged  for 
something  infinitely  worse,  a  slavery  such  as  we  never 
dreamed  that  man  would  be  called  upon  to  endure  in 
what  is  termed  a  civilized  age. 

Most  of  the  men  on  Kokerie  were  there  for  punish- 
ment and  it  was  interesting  to  see  that  Canada  was 
well  represented.  Our  boys  get  their  share  of  that 
sort  of  thing,  all  right,  whenever  it  was  going.  And 
oh,  what  a  job  it  was!  We  had  to  worry  away  at  it 
at  least  twelve  hours  daily,  usually  a  good  deal  more, 
since  the  work  was  set  in  stints.  Each  prisoner  had 
to  load  four  "brands"  of  coke,  wheeling  it  from  the 
ovens  over  a  platform  of  broken  steel  plates  and 
dumping  it  into  the  cars  which  were  run  in  beside  the 
platform.  All  this  was  done  amid  the  hot,  poisonous 
fumes  of  the  red-hot  coke,  enough  in  itself  to  sicken 
any  one.  Each  brand  weighed  eight  tons  so  that 
we  had  to  shovel  and  wheel  at  least  thirty-two  tons 
of  the  stulF  for  a  day's  work.  Every  second  Sunday 
we  were  forced  to  work  twenty-four  hours  at  a 
stretch,  stopping  only  for  meals.  In  that  time  we 
had  to  load  sixty-four  tons. 


156  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 


Even  the  strongest  men  soon  b rok^^^^^ under 
the  work.  Imagine  what  it  was  to^^iPPRarved, 
miserable  beings  Uke  us.  After  a  few  days  our  lungs 
and  eyes  were  burnt  with  the  gases  and  it  seemed  as 
if  we  could  not  keep  moving  another  moment. 
But  the  guards  were  on  the  watch,  and  if  you  rested 
even  a  minute,  there  was  the  devil  to  pay.  Three  or 
four  big  Germans  armed  with  revolvers  paced  back 
and  forth  along  that  platform  all  the  time,  cursing 
and  abusing  us.  Often  they  would  grab  a  shovel  or 
an  iron  bar  off  the  front  of  the  oven  and  hammer  a 
prisoner  who  did  not  do  exactly  as  they  wanted  or 
who  stopped  a  moment  to  rest. 

Soon  we  played  out  and  couldn't  finish  our  four- 
brand  stint  in  the  twelve  hours.  Those  who  hadn't 
finished  were  left  behin#  with  a  special  guard,  who 
was  peeved  usually  because  he  had  to  stay,  and  there 
they  were  kept  till  the  allotted  work  was  done. 
Sometimes  men  were  kept  at  that  for  eighteen  hours 
a  day  until  they  collapsed  on  the  platform.  When 
that  happened  they  were  put  at  lighter  work  for  a 
few  days  till  they  got  back  into  something  like  shape 
and  then  they  were  ordered  back  on  to  Kokerie 
again.  Sometimes  a  prisoner,  driven  harder  than 
he  could  bear,  or  infuriated  at  his  treatment,  would 
go  on  strike  and  refuse  to  work.  When  a  case  like 
this  came  up  the  guards  would  drive  the  rest  of  us  up 
in  a  corner  and  keep  us  there  with  their  bayonets 
while  the  bosses  tied  the  striker  up  to  a  pole  with  his 
hands  above  his  head  in  a  sort  of  crucified  attitude 
and  beat  him  with  rope  ends.  If  that  didn't  break 
him  they  would  stand  him  to  Attention  in  front  of 
the  red-hot  coke  ovens.  If  it  was  winter  the  oven 
treatment  was  alternated  by  forcing  him  to  stand 
to  Attention  out  in  the  cold  without  protection. 
If  he  moved  hand  or  foot  he  would  be  knocked  down 


SLAVE  CONDITIONS  IN  THE  "KOKERIE"  157 

with  the  ^kutt  of  a  rifle  until  he  gave  in  and  went 
back  to  work.  Every  day  the  guards  used  to  say  to 
us:  "You  will  work  or  we  will  kill  you."  And  they 
came  as  near  the  latter  alternative  as  they  could  with- 
out actually  doing  it.  It  was  punishment  that  no 
human  being  could  bear. 

We  hated  the  work  because  we  felt  that  it  was  in- 
jurious to  the  cause  we  had  fought  for.  And  we 
knew  that  in  doing  such  work  we  were  releasing  Ger- 
mans for  the  fighting  fronts.  It  used  to  break  our 
hearts  as  well  as  our  bodies.  But,  under  the  condi- 
tions, what  could  we  do.^* 

I  feel  bound  to  say  that,  in  all  this  matter  of  forced 
labour,  the  British  prisoners  kept  their  quota  of 
work  down  to  the  smallest  possible  minimum.  If 
a  German  gave  us  a  job  and  left  us  alone  we  would 
"soldier  '*  or  lie  down  and  go  to  sleep  beside  it.  If  our 
tools  were  at  all  breakable  we  would  smash  them  up. 
If  one  of  us  cut  or  scratched  himself  he  would  always 
put  dirt  in  the  wound  in  an  attempt  to  induce  blood- 
poisoning.  The  boys  broke  their  arms,  or  smashed 
their  hands  and  feet,  or  otherwise  crippled  themselves 
in  some  way  to  avoid  work  that  would  help  the  Ger- 
man cause.  Many  a  man  has  lost  a  hand  or  an 
arm  over  there  which  he  has  sacrificed  for  the  cause 
just  as  truly  as  if  it  had  been  shot  off  in  Flanders. 

The  jail  and  hospitals  were  always  full  of  British 
and  Canadian  prisoners  and  our  reputation  as  bad 
workmen  became  so  general  that  on  many  working 
parties  the  owners  refused  to  accept  British  prisoners 
and  would  ship  them  straight  back  to  the  camp  if 
they  were  sent  out.  We  were  fighting  a  war, 
against  the  Germans,  in  their  own  territory.  And 
it  was  a  war  which  caused  them  no  little  worry  and 
trouble. 

While  we  knew  that  the  Germans  hated  us  about 


iS8  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

as  thoroughly  as  we  hated  them — because  they  felt 
that  Great  Britain  was  the  nation  which  was  winning 
the  war,  and  also  because  they  knew  that  it  was 
largely  the  British  fleet  which  had  so  materially 
cut  off  their  food  supply — we  felt  that  by  their  ver>' 
hatred  itself  they  showed  their  respect — in  the  only 
way  a  German  can.  At  the  same  time,  they  ac- 
knowledged that  their  prisoners  were  well  treated  in 
England,  but  they  considered  that  this  was  only  their 
due;  while  we,  belonging  to  a  savage,  uncultured 
race,  were  in  their  opinion  not  entitled  to  the  humane 
treatment  that  is  due  to  civilized  peoples. 

They  did  not  have  the  same  feehng  for  the  French 
prisoners.  And  the  reason  was  easy  to  find.  How- 
ever the  Frenchman  may  be  as  a  fighting  man  he 
certainly  caves  in  when  he  becomes  a  prisoner. 
Ninety-five  per  cent,  of  the  French  prisoners  we  saw 
did  every^thing  they  could  to  curry  favour  with  the 
guards  and  consequently  to  make  things  as  easy  as 
possible  for  themselves.  For  instance,  they  were 
largely  used  in  munition  plants — something  that  the 
British,  almost  without  exception,  refused  to  have 
anything  to  do  with.  Again,  they  could  always  be 
trusted  to  carr>^  through  any  work  given  them  and 
could  be  left  very  lightly  guarded  with  little  fear  of 
their  attempting  to  escape.  Thousands  of  them 
were  employed  at  farm  work  with  ver^'  few  guards — 
sometimes  none  at  all.  If  the}^  had  left  most  of  our 
bunch  around  that  way  we  wouldn't  have  been  there 
when  they  came  to  look  for  us.  Not  only  that,  but 
there  would  have  been  less  of  the  crop  in  the  ground 
than  was  there  before.  For  this  reason  the  feeling 
between  the  British  and  the  French  was  not  cordial, 
and  the  British  showed  it  by  holding  strictly  aloof. 
On  the  other  hand,  the  French  were  usually  "in  well" 
with  the  guards  and  the  officers  of  the  camps  and 


SLAVE  CONDITIONS  IN  THE  "KOKERIE"  159 

were  able  to  make  things  unpleasant  for  us.  All  the 
easy  jobs  in  the  big  camps — such  as  those  of  tailors, 
barbers,  cooks,  and  camp-fatigue  duties — went  al- 
most invariably  to  the  French.  Again,  French 
N.  C.  O.'s  were  nearly  always  in  charge  of  the  camps 
under  the  Germans  themselves  and  helped  a  good 
deal  in  maintaining  discipline. 

Over  against  this  fact  it  is  true  that,  occasionally, 
even  the  British  non-coms  were  not  entirely  free 
from  reflection  in  this  respect  for  in  some  camps 
British  sergeants  and  sergeant-majors  carried  on  the 
same  duties,  assisting  the  Germans  to  maintain 
discipline  among  the  British  prisoners.  We  were 
game  to  take  all  the  Germans  could  give  us  in  the  way 
of  punishment  for  getting  into  trouble  but  it  galled  us 
mightily  to  have  these  men  use  their  authority  to 
force  us  to  obey  orders. 

One  old  sergeant  was  instrumental  in  getting  one 
of  the  boys  a  two-year  sentence  in  a  German  peni- 
tentiary, and  had  a  young  Welshman  in  Miinster 
under  arrest  when  I  left  there,  with  a  good  prospect 
of  receiving  a  similar  penalty. 

A  few  N.  C.  O.'s  also  volunteered  for  farm  work 
rather  than  amuse  themselves  in  camp  where  they 
had  nothing  to  do,  and  by  this  they  forced  a  corres- 
ponding number  of  Tommies,  who  would  have  been 
on  the  farms,  to  work  in  the  big  industrial  slave 
camps. 

There  were,  certainly,  a  few  French  who  up- 
held the  standards  of  loyalty,  who  fought  the 
Germans  tooth  and  nail,  and  who  earned  our 
admiration  thereby.  But  they  were  few  and  far 
between. 

An  agreement  had  been  reached  between  the 
British  and  the  German  governments  providing 
that  no  officers  or  N.  C.  O.'s  were  to  be  forced  to 


i6o  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

work — one  of  the  reasons  why  the  officers  in  their 
special  camps  have  no  knowledge  of  the  hardships 
suffered  by  the  rank  and  file.  This  worked  out  bene- 
ficially for  the  Germans  for  there  were  a  great  many 
more  German  prisoners  in  England  than  British 
soldiers  in  Germany.  In  spite  of  this,  however,  a 
working  party  of  N.  C.  O.'s  would  be  made  up  and 
sent  to  Russia  to  work  behind  the  German  lines. 
The  only  excuse  offered  for  this  was  that  it  was  in 
reprisal  for  some  alleged  ill-treatment  of  Germans  in 
England.  These  Russian  working  parties  were  for- 
lorn hopes  since  very  few  of  the  poor  chaps  who 
were  taken  there  ever  came  back.  Most  of  them 
died  of  starvation  and  abuse  but  a  good  many — so 
it  is  said — were  killed  by  Russian  fire.  One  party 
was  driven  like  cattle  from  Pola  to  the  front  by 
Uhlans  who  prodded  them  along  with  their  lances 
and  rode  them  down  if  they  lagged  on  the  weary 
march.  To  make  travel  easier,  most  of  them  threw 
away  their  packs  and  so,  when  overtaken  by  severe 
winter  weather,  had  neither  clothing  nor  shelter; 
as  a  result  many  died  from  exposure. 

Those  who  survived  also  had  their  terrible  troubles. 
At  the  camp  they  had  had  their  parcels  to  fall  back 
on  for  food  when  the  German  ration  was  not  sufficient 
to  keep  life  in  their  bodies.  But  the  parcels  were  not 
sent  up  there  and  the  horrors  of  cold  and  exposure 
were  intensified  by  the  process  of  slow  starvation. 
Strikes  and  trouble  ensued,  as  usual,  many  of  the  men 
hoping  to  be  killed  and  thus  escape  their  misery;  but 
while  the  end  came  for  some,  the  rest  were  subdued 
with  the  usual  tactics.  And  there,  where  there  was 
no  possible  chance  of  interference  by  a  neutral  power, 
the  officials  were  even  more  ruthless  and  cruel  than 
in  the  German  camps.  Sometimes  they  would  stand 
all  the  prisoners  alongside  posts  on  blocks  about  a 


SLAVE  CONDITIONS  IN  THE  "KOKERIE"  i6i 


foot  high,  after  which  their  hands  would  be  tied 
around  the  pole  as  high  as  they  could  reach.  Then 
the  block  was  kicked  out  from  under  their  feet. 
While  they  were  hanging  there  helplessly,  suffering 
unimaginable  torments,  the  guards  would  walk  up 
and  down  the  row  and  ask  each  victim:  "Will  you 
work  now?"  If  he  did  not  immediately  answer 
"Yes,"  they  would  curse  him  and  hammer  him  in  the 
face  or  kick  him — this  treatment  being  kept  up  till 
the  poor  fellows  would  give  in  and  return  to  their 
allotted  task. 

The  German  graveyards  were  filled  with  our  best 
and  bravest  comrades,  buried  in  nameless  and  de- 
spised graves  beneath  the  very  ground  they  had  cursed 
in  the  bitterness  of  their  hopeless  struggle  against  the 
inhuman  cruelty  of  their  barbarian  guards.  Broken- 
hearted and  starved,  in  anguish  beyond  belief,  they 
died;  and  their  very  souls  cry  out  for  redress  and  will 
know  no  peace  until  the  ruthless  murderers  who  drove 
their  tortured  spirits  from  their  broken  bodies  and 
desecrated  their  remains,  shall  have  been  ferreted 
out,  each  and  every  one,  and  given  his  just  deserts — 
"an  eye  for  an  eye,  and  a  tooth  for  a  tooth" — from 
the  German  soldier  who  committed  the  crime  to 
the  officer  who  permitted  and  often  directed  it,  while 
pretending  ignorance,  to  escape  subsequent  punish- 
ment for  himself  and  his  masters. 

Thank  Heaven  that  mighty  few  of  our  men,  pri- 
vates or  N.  C.  O.'s,  consented  to  take  charge  of  any 
work  or  to  assume  any  authority.  The  few  who  did 
we  regarded  as  traitors  to  their  country,  to  their 
friends,  and  to  the  cause  for  which  we  had  fought  and 
were  still  fighting  in  the  only  way  we  could. 

When  I  got  back  to  London,  after  finally  making 
good  my  escape,  I  reported  all  such  cases  that  I  knew 
of.     The  same  thing  has  been  done  by  other  escaped 


i62  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

prisoners.  We  are  hoping  and  praying  that  these 
few  fellows  who  so  traitorously  turned  on  their  com- 
rades in  their  hour  of  need  will  be  treated  as  traitors 
and  shot — as  they  deserve  to  be — when,  eventually, 
they  reach  home. 


CHAPTER  XII 
Another  Try  for  Freedom 

As  WAS  quite  natural,  I  suppose,  it  was  the  usual 
thing  for  congenial  spirits  in  the  camps  to  sort  them- 
selves out  and  get  together  in  what  was  termed 
"schools"  of  from  three  to  six  who  "mucked  in" — 
that  is  to  say,  cooked,  ate,  shared  parcels,  and  gen- 
erally chummed  together.  The  "school"  I  was  in 
comprised  Nicholson;  Private  Blacklock,  Canadian 
Engineers;  Private  John  O'Brien,  8th  Canadians; 
Private  Freddie  ("Toby")  Boyd,  4th  C.  M.  R.;  and 
last,  but  not  least.  Private  George  Polly,  a  sturdy 
little  London  pugilist,  who  was  a  daddy  to  us  all. 
We  were  a  pretty  bad  combination  I  guess.  Some  of 
us  were  always  in  trouble.  One  or  other  of  the  six 
was  always  in  jail — sometimes  more  than  one. 
This  involved  a  rather  serious  cutting  down  of  the 
food  ration,  with  consequent  suffering.  Finally, 
however,  I  hit  on  a  scheme  to  get  food  in  to  the 
prisoners  in  the  jail.  It  takes  longer  to  tell  about 
than  it  took  to  effect  but  it  is  a  good  example  of 
the  schemes  we  were  able  to  work  to  evade  the 
regulations. 

Many  of  the  German  soldiers  and  guards  had 
smoked  British  tobacco  before  the  war  and  didn't 
much  relish  their  own — to  which,  of  necessity, 
they  had  been  reduced.  We  didn't  blame  them  for 
their  preference;  the  German  product  certainly  was 
rank.     In  any  event,  they  used  to  watch  us  hungrily 


i64  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

when  we  puffed  away  at  our  English  cigarettes 
which  came  to  us  regularly  in  the  Red  Cross  boxes. 
It  was  a  very  serious  offence  to  take  anything  from 
a  prisoner,  punishable  by  immediate  transfer  to  the 
fighting  front — something  most  of  these  fellows 
were  exceedingly  anxious  to  avoid — so  they  didn't 
dare  to  take  a  cigarette  even  if  we  offered  one.  The 
purpose  of  this  rule,  as  will  probably  be  obvious,  was 
to  prevent  bribery.  However,  3'ou  can  always 
bribe  a  German  if  you  go  about  it  in  the  right  way. 
I  picked  on  an  old  savage  who  used  to  watch  us 
smoking  with  particularly  hungry  eyes;  and,  at 
every  opportunity,  and  with  a  great  show  of  friend- 
liness, would  offer  him  a  cigarette.  The  first  time 
he  threatened  to  knock  me  down,  but  on  each  suc- 
ceeding occasion  he  became  a  little  less  hostile; 
finally,  with  a  furtive  look  all  round  to  see  that  no 
one  was  in  sight,  he  took  the  proffered  "fag"  and  hid 
it  away.  So  far  so  good.  Every  time  we  had  a 
chance  we  gave  him  a  cigarette  and  soon  he  came  to 
look  for  them. 

Now  had  come  the  time  to  put  to  the  test  our  far- 
fetched scheme.  One  day  two  of  the  lads  were 
chucked  into  jail  for  one  of  the  usual  infractions  of 
discipline.  I  was  sitting  at  a  table  in  the  barrack 
when  our  old  cigarette  fiend  came  in.  I  called  him 
over  and  he  came  readily  enough,  looking  apparently 
for  the  usual  box  of  fags.  Then  I  put  it  up  to  him 
bluntly  that  he  had  to  take  some  food  in  to  the  boys 
in  jail.  He  thought  I  was  crazy.  He  raved  around 
the  place  till  I  told  him  point  blank  that,  if  he  didn't 
do  it,  we  would  report  him  to  the  commandant  of 
the  camp  for  having  taken  cigarettes  from  us.  He 
kicked  like  a  steer;  but  deep  down  in  his  heart  he 
knew  we  would  keep  our  word,  and  he  knew,  further, 
that  if  we  carried  out  our  threat,  he  would  be  on  his 


"'  ANOTHER  TRY  FOR  FREEDOM  165 

way  to  the  front  in  France  within  a  week.  Well, 
]  the  game  worked.  Finally  the  old  brute  gave  in. 
I  After  that,  those  of  us  who  were  ever  in  the  jail 
were  a  good  deal  more  comfortable. 

I  suppose  it  was  a  pretty  glaring  species  of  black- 
mail. But  we  were  quite  conscientious  in  believing 
that  the  end  justified  the  means. 

But  it's  high  time  we  were  getting  back  to  our 
own  experiences  in  that  jail. 

The  sentence — "Ten  days*  'black'" — referred 
to  in  the  last  chapter,  and  which  had  been  awarded 
Wallie  and  me  as  punishment  for  trying  to  escape, 
meant  that  we  were  to  put  in  ten  days  in  the  black 
or  dark,  cells,  on  a  materially  reduced  ration  of  bread 
and  water,  with  no  opportunity  to  communicate 
with  any  one  either  inside  or  out.  When  the  time 
came  we  were  pushed  into  an  absolutely  dark  cell 
about  three  by  six  feet  in  size  with  absolutely  no 
furniture  or  provision  for  comfort;  and  beyond 
being  allowed  out  for  a  few  minutes  each  night  to 
get  what  water  we  needed,  we  were  confined  in  that 
space.  To  shut  out  the  light  they  corked  up  all 
the  cracks  and  we  nearly  died  of  suffocation. 

It  wasn't  much  wonder  that  the  time  passed  slowly. 
W^e  had  some  consolations,  however,  though  these 
were  neither  provided  nor  anticipated  by  the  Ger- 
mans. If  they  had  even  suspected  such  things  there 
would  have  been  short  shrift  for  them.  We  got 
the  added  food  supply,  for  instance,  through  the 
underground  medium  of  the  blackmail  plan.  The 
same  medium  furnished  us  with  matches,  so  that 
we  were  not  forced  always  to  remain  in  darkness. 
Then,  fortunately,  we  were  not  placed  very  far  apart 
and  soon  found  that  we  could  shout  to  one  another 
when  no  guards  were  likely  to  be  around. 

I  passed  a  good  deal  of  the  time  scribbling  rhymes 


i66  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST; 

on  the  cell  walls.  I  would  think  out  a  verse,  then 
light  a  match  and  inscribe  the  matter  while  the  light 
lasted.  Incidentally,  one  of  the  best  of  these  was 
written  on  Christmas  Day,  1916,  while  most  of  you 
were  feasting  on  Canadian  good  things.  It  is  given 
here — as  nearly  as  I  can  remember — as  I  wrote  it 
then: 

On  the  old  ramparts  at  Ypres 

There's  a  lone  Canadian  grave; 
The  spot  was  fitly  chosen, 

For  his  heart  was  true  and  brave. 
There,  not  a  sound  can  reach  him 

But  the  tramp  of  marching  feet 
And  the  shattered  walls  of  Ypres 

Falling  in  the  street. 

Of  the  first  to  enter  its  earthen  walls 

Ere  the  furious  storm  had  burst 
Which  made  of  the  ancient  city 

A  spot  on  earth  accurst, 
The  forlorn  grave  of  thousands 

Who  came  with  eager  feet 
When  the  shattered  walls  of  Ypres 

W^ere  falling  in  the  street. 

There  when  the  Germans'  murdering  hordes 

Pressed  near  the  old  Lille  gate. 
And  fiercely  blazed  the  dripping  sword. 

And  swelled  the  Hymn  of  Hate, 
The  shells  came  moaning  over 

And  struck  the  old  Cloth  Hal! 
Whose  walls  had  stood  a  thousand  years 

But  now  were  doomed  to  fall; 
The  Algerian  line  had  staggered 

From  the  gas  clouds  in  retreat. 
Where  the  shattered  walls  of  Ypres 

Were  falling  in  the  street. 


ANOTHER  TRY  FOR  FREEDOM  167 

Into  the  gap  from  the  "Land  of  Snow" 

Young  soldiers  of  the  West 
Unfurled  to  the  eyes  of  an  anxious  world 

The  maple  leaf  and  crest. 
Far-away  mothers  with  mournful  eyes 

The  glaring  headlines  greet: 
"The  Canadians  have  saved  the  day," 

And  the  news  is  bitter-sweet. 
But  even  yet  we  can  proudly  say 

No  Germans  have  set  their  feet 
Where  the  shattered  walls  of  Ypres 

Are  falling  in  the  street. 

When  muffled  drums  stir  the  countless  slain 

To  answer  the  last  Roll  Call, 
When  Flanders  fields  resound  again 

With  marching  men's  footfall, 
From  the  shattered  stumps  of  Sanct'ary  Wood, 
From  the  battered  holes  where  Hooge  once  stood. 
From  trench  and  dug-out,  crater  and  mine, 
A  wavering,  broken,  and  forlorn  line — 
Canada's  sons  will  rise  again. 

And  hurry  with  noiseless  feet 
To  answer  the  call  where  they  gave  their  all 

In  ruined  Ypres'  street. 

We  did  have  a  sort  of  Christmas  dinner  that  day 
for  when  in  the  afternoon  our  blackmailed  guard 
came  to  take  us  out  to  get  a  pail  of  water,  ostensibly 
to  wash  our  faces,  we  found  the  pail  full  of  food. 
There  was  something  else  which  promised  to  be 
even  more  of  a  treat.  Mail  had  arrived  while  we 
were  in  the  cells  and  one  of  my  chums  had  slipped 
half  a  dozen  letters  addressed  to  me  in  among  the 
food.  I  was  so  pleased  I  could  scarcely  wait  till 
we  got  back  to  the  cell  to  read  them.  And  then, 
when  I  began  to  pore  over  them  by  match-light, 
I  found  to  my  disgust  that  they  were  all  six  or  seven 


i68  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

months  old.     They  had   been   lost  or  had  strayed 
all  that  time. 

When  we  had  served  our  allotted  time  and  were 
allowed  out  again  we  found  that  because  of  the 
Christmas  season  discipline  in  the  camp  was  slightly 
relaxed.  At  least  fewer  punishments  were  awarded 
and  a  Httle  more  liberty  was  allowed.  For  the  first 
time  since  we  arrived  in  that  camp  we  were  allowed 
to  have  a  concert  and  a  few  boxing  tournaments. 
These  latter  were  a  great  source  of  wonder  to  the 
Germans  who  never  care  to  fight  with  their  fists. 
When  one  of  the  really  good  boxers  we  had  in  the 
camp  would  knock  another  fellow  down — all  in  the 
best  of  humour — they  would  look  on  in  wonder. 
Truly  it  was  difficult  for  them  to  understand  British 
ideas. 

However,  even  with  such  diversions,  the  days  and 
weeks  passed  slowly  by.  Ultimately  one  of  the 
boys  worked  out  an  ingenious  scheme  by  which 
practically  eyerybody  got  out  of  working — for  a  while 
—and  soon  the  hospital  overflowed.  It  was  really 
a  laughable  stunt  though  it  caused  an  amount  of 
suffering  that  no  one  who  was  not  there  can  possibly 
appreciate. 

The  Red  Cross  parcels  coming  in  to  us  all  had 
plenty  of  mustard  included  (thought  we  needed 
seasoning  for  the  food  we  were  getting,  I  guess). 
But  that  mustard  was  made  to  serve  a  different 
purpose.  This  chap  remembered,  I  suppose,  what 
his  mother  had  done  to  him  when  he  had  had  a 
pain  in  the  region  of  his  stomach  in  days  of  old  and 
utilized  the  mustard  in  a  similar  way,  though  on 
his  hands  and  feet,  and  in  a  stronger  solution. 
Others,  seeing  the  effect,  followed  suit,  and  soon 
there  was  an  abundance  of  bad-looking  sores  in  the 
camp.     Then  an  old  Imperial  soldier  went  the  origi- 


ANOTHER  TRY  FOR  FREEDOM  169 

nator  one  better  by  inventing  a  salve  of  salt  and  soap. 
As  can  be  imagined,  its  soothing  qualities  were  not 
remarkable.  Instead,  when  applied  to  the  mustard 
sores,  it  ate  in  greedily,  making  the  wounds  look 
fearful.  Painful,  of  course;  but — so  was  work. 
In  a  few  days  about  thirty  of  the  boys  were  paraded 
before  the  old  camp  doctor  and  were  sent  to  the 
hospital.  He  said  we  had  "The  Plague!"  and  no- 
body denied  it. 

To  the  officials  it  must  have  looked  mighty  serious. 
And  try  as  he  might  the  old  doctor  was  unable  to 
find  any  earthly  disease  to  correspond  with  it.  In 
the  meantime,  it  kept  spreading,  as  did  the  alarm,  and 
soon  a  number  of  the  "plague "-infected  prisoners 
were  sdnt  on  to  the  larger  hospital  at  Munster. 
Now,  since  it  was  the  hope  and  aim  of  every  one  of 
us  to  get  to  Munster,  away  from  that  horrible  mine 
camp,  this  was  all  very  fine.  No  solution  of  the 
epidemic  was  found  by  the  surgeons  here. 

Eventually  two  specialists,  very  great  men  indeed, 
were  brought  down  from  Berlin.  They  tried  a  grist 
of  experiments  but  were  apparently  as  mystified  as 
the  others. 

In  the  end  the  thing  was  given  away  by  a  couple 
of  Russians  whom  someone  had  let  into  the  secret. 
While  the  Russians  were  with  us  they  were  all  right 
and  could  be  depended  on  to  keep  their  nerve. 
However,  the  Germans  finally  became  suspicious 
that  everything  was  not  exactly  as  it  seemed.  They 
got  these  two  poor  fellows  by  themselves  and  put 
them  through  a  sort  of  exalted  third-degree  treat- 
ment, I  suppose,  for  the  secret  came  out. 

Then  followed  the  reckoning.  All  the  "  plague  "- 
stricken  victims — some  of  them  really  suffering 
severely — were  turned  out  into  the  yard  and  set  to 
work  stiffly.     For  a  while  the  hospital  was  empty, 


I70  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

and  to  have  the  jail  and  hospital  empty  was  very 
discouraging.  But  this  was  not  the  end.  There 
were  the  usual  ''accidents,"  which  sufficed  occasion- 
ally to  put  a  man  back  for  a  time,  but  this  was  not 
wholesale  enough  to  suit  us.  At  a  sort  of  council 
meeting  we  discussed  different  diseases  which  might 
serve  to  secure  us  admission  to  the  hospital,  and  finally 
decided  on  heart-disease — a  malady  that  no  one  had 
ever  tried  the  old  doctor  with.  It  was  quite  a  job  lo 
create  cases  of  heart-disease  wholesale,  particularly 
with  the  limited,  pharmacopoeia  available  in  a  Ger- 
man prison  camp,  but  we  managed  it  fairly  well. 

How?     It  is  simple  enough,  when  you  know  how. 

Next  morning,  after  they  had  eaten  about  a  pound 
of  soap  between  them,  six  of  the  fellows  were  paraded 
before  the  doctor  complaining  of  heart-disease. 
When  the  other  cases  were  disposed  of,  and  the 
friendly  French  orderly  I  have  spoken  of  before 
holloed  *'Next,"  a  big  six-foot  Canadian  stepped 
out  and  began  to  explain  his  symptoms.  With  a 
derisive  grin  the  old  doctor  grabbed  his  stethoscope 
and  applied  it  to  the  region  of  the  alleged  malady. 
In  a  second  the  grin  faded  and  a  look  of  astonishment 
took  its  place.  He  went  over  him  long  and  carefully 
and  finally,  with  some  concern,  looking  at  him  as 
though  he  expected  him  to  blow  up,  stood  him  aside 
to  be  attended  to  after  examining  the  others.  But 
when  they  turned  out  to  be  similarly  affected  the 
old  chap  seemed  to  get  the  key  to  the  situation.  He 
flew  into  a  rage  and  kicked  them  all  out.^  When  they 
came  back  to  question  the  orderly  a  little  later  he 
was  very  much  amused. 

"What  did  the  doctor  say?"  he  was  asked. 

*'He  says  there  is  nothing  wrong,"  the  answer 
came,  "that  EngHshmen's  hearts  are  all  like  that. 
They  drink  too  much  whiskey." 


ANOTHER  TRY  FOR  FREEDOM  171 

So  all  we  got  out  of  that  attempt  was  a  bad  repu- 
tation. 

About  this  time  "Slim'*  Evans  again  came  into 
prominence  by  reason  of  getting  mixed  up  with  some 
civilians  in  a  fight  down  in  the  mine  in  which  he 
was  outnumbered  three  or  four  to  one  and  rather 
badly  beaten  up.  "SHm's'*  case  came  before  the 
so-called  "Court  of  Justice,"  and  gave  us  another 
instance  of  its  workings. 

In  case  a  prisoner  was  ill-treated  by  a  guard 
he  had  the  privilege  of  laying  a  complaint  with  the 
commandant,  which  came,  of  course,  under  military- 
authority,  since  the  guards  were  soldiers.  The 
guards  had  their  own  methods  of  looking  after  such 
things.  In  case  of  trouble  with  civilians,  however, 
the  prisoner  was  encouraged  to  lay  a  complaint, 
for  reasons  which  this  incident  will  evidence. 

Evans  charged  the  civilians  with  assault  and  the 
Sieiger  (foreman)  of  his  revier,  who  had  been  one 
of  the  main  factors  in  the  matter,  was  brought  up 
for  trial.  It  was  not  usual  even  to  allow  a  prisoner 
to  attend  his  trial  but  in  this  case,  for  some  peculiar 
reason,  "Slim"  was  summoned  to  attend,  and  was 
taken  down  to  the  court  in  another  town  by  Johnson, 
the  interpreter,  who  also  acted  as  guard. 

Now,  if  the  case  had  gone  against  Evans,  he  would 
have  been  jailed  and  the  work  he  would  do  in  the 
time  of  his  incarceration  would  be  lost.  He  couldn't 
be  fined  because  he  had  no  money  to  pay.  So  after 
a  lot  of  argument  and  a  good  deal  of  false  swearing 
on  the  part  of  the  civilians  the  Court  found  the 
Steiger  guilty  and  fined  him  heavily.  "Slim"  was 
also  informed — ^with  a  beautiful  disregard  for  con- 
sistency— ^that  he,  too,  was  guilty,  and  was  severely 
reprimanded  and  warned  to  be  more  careful  in  future. 
The  fines  went  to  the  War  Chest. 


172  THE  KAlSER'S  GUEST 

See  the  beautifully  planned  circle.  We  were  en- 
couraged to  report  on  the  civilians.  They  were  en- 
couraged to  stir  up  trouble  with  us.  In  the  end  they 
were  fined.  All  for  the  benefit  of  the  state.  There's 
a  sample  of  government  for  you. 

Another  rather  good  story  goes  with  this  trial, 
however.  After  the  trial  the  interpreter,  Johnson, 
felt  called  upon  to  stand  treat  to  the  Steigers  from 
our  camp,  and  one  or  two  others  who  had  attended 
the  trial.  When  they  resorted  to  the  bar  he  had,  of 
necessity,  to  take  his  prisoner  along.  "Slim"  was 
equal  to  the  occasion,  took  his  place  with  the  rest 
of  them,  and  when  the  *' Schnapps'*  appeared,  tossed 
off  his  share  before  the  Germans  had  time  to  object. 
Naturally  they  stirred  up  a  fuss  but  the  Canadian 
knew  his  ground,  that  they  were  breaking  rules  to 
bring  him  in  there,  and  threatened  exposure.  He 
apparently  had  the  best  of  the  argument.  In  any 
event,  he  got  several  rounds  of  Schnapps  at  the  ex- 
pense of  his  guards. 

Incidents  like  these  illustrate  various  phases  of 
camp  life.  From  some  of  them  we  extracted  really 
a  good  deal  of  fun.  But  all  the  time  we  were  under- 
going the  terrible  strain  of  slavish  work,  brutal  treat- 
ment by  the  guards,  and  at  times,  when  our  parcels 
were  not  regular,  an  awful,  ravening  hunger.  All  of 
these  were  operating  to  break  down  our  mental  and 
physical  strength.  Any  one  of  them  alone  was 
enough  to  break  any  man's  heart. 

It  will  not  be  wondered  at,  then,  that  I  kept 
planning  for  another  escape.  When  we  had  come  so 
near  it  once  it  seemed  well  worth  trying  again,  even 
though  we  knew  the  punishment  that  was  likely  to  be 
meted  out  should  the  attempt  fail. 

When  Wallie  and  I  came  out  of  jail  after  the  first 
attempt  we  were  forced  back  to  w^ork  on  the  Kokerie 


ANOTHER  TRY  FOR  FREEDOM    175 

again.  The  hardships  of  the  trip  and  the  punish- 
ment following  had  affected  Wallie  seriously,  he  was 
not  able  to  keep  up  to  the  work  here  and  so  was 
moved  for  a  while  to  another  job.  Thus,  when 
determined  to  have  another  try  at  it,  and  since  it  did 
not  seem  possible  to  wait  for  long,  as  cold  weather 
was  setting  in,  I  decided,  regretfully,  that  I  would 
have  to  go  without  him.  So  when  I  was  approached 
by  a  big  fellow  from  the  Royal  Engineers — who,  for 
reasons  which  will  be  obvious  later,  I  shall  call  W.  H. 
— I  sized  him  up  and  decided  to  try  it  out  again  with 
him.  He  had  been  camp  cobbler  but  had  been  placed 
in  the  Kokerie  a  few  days  before  because  of  some  dis- 
satisfaction with  his  work.  His  story  was  that  he 
wanted  to  get  on  the  Kokerie  to  have  a  better  chance 
to  escape  and  he  claimed  to  have  two  thousand  marks 
in  German  money.  We  thought  this  might  come 
in  handy  to  bribe  a  guard  in  case  we  were  caught 
up  on  the  Border,  so  the  outlook  seemed  good.  After 
we  got  away  and  got  up  near  the  Border  the  story 
assumed  a  different  complexion  and  it  appeared  that 
he  had  only  two  marks  which  had  been  given  him  by 
an  old  Russian. 

The  first  thing  to  do  when  thinking  of  escape 
was  to  get  rid  of  the  marks  on  our  clothing.  You 
see,  the  clothes  which  were  sent  in  to  us  in  our  par- 
cels were  all  passed  through  the  censor's  hands  and 
were  marked  before  we  were  allowed  to  get  hold  of 
them.  As  yet  I  hadn't  received  all  the  honours 
which  were  awarded  to  me  later  in  the  way  of  special 
decorations  and  with  some  little  difficulty  we  man- 
aged to  get  rid  of  all  the  marks  fairly  well  except 
those  on  our  great  coats. 

The  plan  we  hit  on  this  time,  while  it  was  simpler 
than  the  other,  was  at  the  same  time  more  daring, 
as  its  working  out  will  show. 


174  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

The  night  of  the  fatal  day — the  fifth  of  January, 
1917 — we  fell  in  with  the  other  prisoners  as  usual  in 
the  prison  yard,  to  be  counted.  Sometimes  the 
guards  searched  us  and  we  were  nervous  about  it 
because,  besides  a  few  biscuits,  a  couple  of  tins  of  bull 
beef,  and  a  bit  of  chocolate — these  for  rations — we 
had  a  watch,  a  compass,  and  a  flashlight.  The 
guards  looked  us  over,  but  fortunately  didn't  search 
us  closely.  Then,  with  the  guards  in  a  circle  all 
round  us,  we  were  marched  out  on  the  street  and 
turned  the  corner  toward  the  Kokerie.  One  old 
guard  had  lost  an  eye  and,  taking  advantage  of  this, 
W.  H.  and  I  got  on  the  blind  side  of  him.  Invariably', 
as  we  turned  the  corner  of  a  big  brick  kiln  next  the 
Kokerie  we  w^ould  meet  a  party  of  civilians  coming 
back  from  the  day  shift.  We  counted  on  this  and 
two  or  three  other  little  things  to  make  our  get- 
away. So  you  can  imagine  how  anxious  we  became 
as  we  neared  that  corner.  Sure  enough,  the  party 
was  on  hand  as  usual.  As  previously  arranged, 
just  as  we  passed  the  last  man,  two  of  our  fellows 
whisked  our  coats  off  our  shoulders  and  we  wheeled 
like  a  flash  and  fell 'in  behind  the  civilians.  The 
whole  thing  was  done  in  the  midst  of  the  guards  who, 
as  we  counted,  didn't  see  us  and — by  its  very  daring, 
I  suppose — was  successful. 

There  we  were,  to  all  intents  and  purposes  German 
civilians  coming  off  the  day  shift.  We  walked  right 
past  the  guards  and  the  next  moment  ran  practically 
into  the  arms  of  the  manager  of  the  plant  and  three  of 
his  foremen.  For  a  moment  my  heart  was  in  my 
mouth  lest  they  would  spot  us,  but  I  walked  quickly 
past  and  escaped  detection.  When  W.  H.  saw  what 
was  approaching  he  slipped  round  the  corner  ot  the 
kiln  and  came  out  from  the  other  side.  By  that  time 
I  was  busy  digging  a  hole  under  the  fence  behind  a 


ANOTHER  TRY  FOR  FREEDOM   175 

pile  of  bricks.  He  came  along  the  fence  calling  to 
me  but  fortunately  no  one  heard  him.  Soon  we  were 
under  the  fence  and  through,  again  tasting  the  joys 
of  freedom.  Twenty  minutes  later,  when  we  were 
sitting  on  the  edge  of  a  marsh,  scraping  the  mud  from 
our  clothes  and  wringing  them  dry,  we  heard  the  alarm 
ring  at  the  Kokerie.     We  knew  we  had  been  missed. 

It  wasn't  so  easy  getting  away  that  time;  indeed  we 
were  nearly  nabbed  at  the  outset.  The  night  was 
bright,  with  a  full  moon,  and  since  the  ground  was 
frozen  hard  any  one  could  be  heard  from  a  long 
distance.  We  trudged  along  across  the  fields,  avoid- 
ing the  roads  as  much  as  possible,  making  for  the 
spot  where  Wallie  and  I  had  crossed  the  River  Lippe 
the  time  before.  Looking  back  we  saw  a  party  of 
horsemen  who  we  knew  were  out  looking  for  us  and 
who  were  only  a  field  or  so  away.  Fortune  did  fa- 
vour us  here  for  there  was  a  deep  furrow  or  ditch 
just  about  where  we  were  when  we  saw  them.  We 
dropped  into  this,  pronto,  and  they  apparently  lost 
us  for,  though  not  far  away  when  they  went  by,  they 
had  not  seen  us  drop.  When  they  had  disappeared 
we  made  for  the  river  again,  more  anxiously  than 
ever.  Very  soon  we  arrived  at  the  spot,  but  only  to 
find  the  house  flooded  and  deserted  and  the  barge 
and  wharf  both  washed  away.  After  hunting 
around  for  a  while,  however,  we  found  two  railway 
ties  and  these,  with  a  couple  of  doors  from  an  old 
building  and  considerable  other  rubbish,  the  whole 
fastened  with  hay-wire,  formed  a  raft  which  we  de- 
cided would  do  in  the  emergency. 

At  that  time  the  river  was  in  flood  and  had  risen 
over  the  flats  on  both  sides  till  it  was  fully  half  a  mile 
wide.  As  we  pushed  off"  into  the  icy  water  the  raft 
sank  under  us  until  we  began  to  think  it  was  no  use. 
Up  to  our  waists  the  water  rose  and  then  she  floated, 


176  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

and  after  a  good  deal  of  trouble  we  were  able  to  land 
near  a  farmhouse  on  the  opposite  bank.  At  first, 
avoiding  the  roads,  we  tried  the  fields,  but  found  they 
were  impassable  because  of  the  water  under  the  snow 
which  made  passage  almost  out  of  the  question.  So 
we  had  to  come  back  to  the  roads. 

The  country  was  thickly  populated  and  so  we  ran 
continual  risk  of  capture,  but  there  was  nothing  else 
to  do  but  to  plug  along  and  make  the  best  of  a  bad 
job.  Of  course  we  got  mighty  wet  getting  across  the 
river  and  there  was  no  chance  to  get  warm  or  dry 
again  so  we  plugged  along.  While  we  managed  to 
get  fairly  good  cover,  it  was  in  bits  of  bush  or  out-of- 
the-way  spots,  which  furnished  little  or  no  protection. 
Time  and  time  again  we  were  tempted  to  sleep  in 
barns  and  outhouses  but  we  knew  that  to  do  this 
would  be  practically  courting  capture.  Toward 
morning  we  used  to  scrape  away  the  snow  under  a 
tree  and  huddle  together,  hugging  each  other  for 
warmth.  Sometimes  we  took  big  chances  and  made 
a  fire.  This  was  a  good  deal  more  dangerous  than 
might  be  supposed.  The  bush  in  Germany  being 
largely  the  result  of  a  policy  of  reforestation  they  are 
exceedingly  careful  as  to  fires,  so  smoke  arising  from 
one  of  these  patches  is  very  likely  to  lead  to  immedi- 
ate investigation.  It  was  no  easy  matter  to  get  a  fire 
started  either,  since  everything  was  soaked  through 
with  the  heavy  December  rains.  When  we  did  get 
one  started  we  used  to  dry  bundles  of  sticks  which  we 
would  carry  on  to  the  next  resting  place  so  as  to  have 
some  dry  kindling. 

In  addition  to  the  cold  and  dampness  we  began  to 
suffer  terribly  from  hunger  and  altogether  this  be- 
came too  much  for  W.  H.,  who  began  to  fag  and 
complained  that  he  was  *'fed  up."  He  proposed  all 
sorts  of  things,  which  I  knew  would  be  sure  to  lead 


ANOTHER  TRY  FOR  FREEDOM  177 

to  capture,  and  I  had  a  hard  struggle  to  keep  him 
moving.  But  still  he  would  not  consent  to  our  sepa- 
rating but  protested  so  strongly  that  he  wanted  to 
keep  on  that  I  had  to  believe  him. 

We  travelled  only  at  night  and  were  continually 
meeting  people.  Almost  invariably  they  spoke  to 
us.  I  answered  in  the  best  German  I  could  command 
— not  too  good  at  that— and  we  would  walk  quickly 
past.  Sometimes  they  would  stare  after  us  as  if  they 
suspected  something  and  then  we  would  change  our 
course  or  cross  the  fields  to  another  road.  Shortly 
after  starting  out  one  evening,  about  six  o'clock,  we 
passed  through  the  town  of  Ramsdorf.  Several 
people  spoke  to  us  here,  but  we  managed  to  get 
through  without  arousing  any  suspicion.  Half 
dead  v^^ith  hunger  as  we  were,  W.  H.  wanted  to  stop  at 
a  shop  and  try  to  buy  some  bread  but  I  knew  that 
would  be  fatal  and  wouldn't  let  him. 

Next  morning  we  got  cover  in  what  looked  like  a 
fair-sized  bush  and  started  a  little  fire  but  soon  found 
out  that  we  were  close  beside  a  frequented  path. 
Going  farther  back  I  found  that  we  were  in  a  mere 
fringe  of  trees  surrounding  a  bunch  of  farm  buildings. 
It  was  decidedly  dangerous;  but  v>^e  were  so  cold  and 
miserable  that  we  decided  not  to  move  but  to  take 
a  chance  on  anybody  finding  us.  Several  people 
passed  during  the  day  but  happily  no  one  noticed  our 
fire.  It  is  very  strange  how  one  can  lie  hidden  that 
way,  almost  in  plain  sight,  and  yet  escape  the  atten- 
tion of  so  many  people. 

The  next  morning  we  lighted  our  fire  on  top  of  a 
sand  hill  bearing  three  or  four  scrubby  pines,  the 
long,  drooping  limbs  of  which  were  weighted  down 
with  snow.  When  it  got  really  light  we  saw  on  our 
right  three  or  four  farmhouses  in  the  middle  of  a 
good-sized  tract  of  farm  land.     On  the  left  was  a 


/ 


178  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

stretch  of  moor  covered  with  stunted  pines  about  a 
foot  high.  From  this  direction  we  heard  a  loud 
noise  that  grew  nearer  and  more  distinct  as  the  hours 
passed  and  we  wondered  what  it  was.  About  two 
o'clock,  peering  anxiously  through  the  snow  and 
sleet,  we  saw  what  proved  to  be  a  long  line  of  Ger- 
mans armed  with  sticks,  pans,  horns,  and  all  sorts  of 
noise-producers.  They  were  advancing  right  in  our 
direction,  but  by  this  time  it  was  too  late  to  make  a 
move.  On  the  flank  of  the  line,  too,  were  men  armed 
with  shotguns. 

Were  they  after  us?  At  first  we  thought  so  and 
wondered  the  wherefor  of  the  horns  and  pans. 
It  soon  became  evident,  however,  that  they  were 
out  on  a  rabbit  drive  and  they  nearly  caught  a  couple 
of  rabbits  they  weren't  looking  for.  They  passed 
within  twenty  yards  of  us  but  were  apparently  so 
interested  in  the  hunt  that  they  didn't  notice  our 
fire.  We  breathed  a  sigh  of  reUef,  though,  when  they 
were  past. 

The  relief  didn't  last  long.  A  moment  later  two 
figures  appeared  at  the  bottom  of  the  sand  hill  and 
began  to  make  their  way  straight  toward  the  fire. 
W.  H.  had  curled  up  comfortably  beside  it  but  I 
roused  him  so  as  to  be  ready  for  an  emergency. 
Inasmuch  as  there  was  no  other  cover  near,  we  de- 
cided that  there  was  nothing  better  to  do  than  await 
developments.  When  they  came  closer  the  couple 
turned  out  to  be  an  old  man  and  a  woman.  He 
carried  a  sack  of  potatoes  on  his  back  while  she  had  a 
bundle  of  clothes. 

The  old  man  stopped  by  the  fire,  eased  his  sack  to 
the  ground,  and  said : 

''Legoffr 

''Legoffy'  I  answered,  and  sat  still,  not  offering 
further  greeting. 


ANOTHER  TRY  FOR  FREEDOM  179 

In  what  category  they  placed  us  I  do  not  know. 
However,  in  a  moment  the  old  man  picked  up  his 
bag  and  plodded  on  again,  the  old  woman  following. 

It  had,  perhaps,  better  be  explained  that  "  Legoff" 
is  a  term  of  greeting  much  used  in  Westphalia.  We 
had  heard  it  used  frequently  in  the  mines  and  so  were 
fairly  familiar  with  it,  I  never  heard  it  definitely 
translated  but  I  believe  it  meant  something  like  our 
''Good  Luck." 

That  night  we  travelled  on  roads  which  bore  signs 
reading:  '' Dieser  Weg  ist  Ferboten"  (It  is  forbidden 
to  pass  this  way),  and  from  this  knew  that  we  were 
getting  close  to  the  Border.  Through  the  day  the 
weather  changed  to  warmer  and  melted  all  the  snow 
until  it  was  almost  impassable  underfoot.  The  rain 
continued  most  of  the  night  so  that  we  were  in  rather 
parlous  shape  and  needed  something  to  cheer  us  up. 
Early  in  the  evening  we  passed  an  old  windmill 
that  we  had  frequently  heard  of  and  began  to  dodge 
patrols  again.  We  were  aiming  to  cross  at  the  spot 
where  Wallie  and  I  had  attempted  to  pass  before  but 
missed,  and  knew  we  were  on  the  right  road  this 
time. 

Everything  was  going  along  favourably  when 
something  seemed  to  strike  W.  H.  and  he  began  to 
argue  that  we  were  lost.  In  spite  of  all  I  could  do  he 
continued  to  argue  and  finally  insisted  on  following  a 
broad  road  running  parallel  with  the  Border.  I 
wanted  to  take  to  the  fields  and  told  him  the  danger 
he  was  running  but  he  kept  on  stubbornly  until  a 
German  patrol  came  down  the  road.  They  were 
interested  in  our  argument,  too,  and  got  all  around 
us  before  we  noticed  them. 

We  were  in  the  toils  again.  Once  more  our  hopes 
were  blasted. 

These  guards  were  young  fellows  who  had  been 


i8o  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

wounded  at  the  front,  and  then  put  on  Border  duty. 
They  used  us  rather  better  than  we  expected  after 
the  former  experience,  even  giving  us  a  mattress 
to  sleep  on  in  their  billet.  Listening  to  their  talk 
we  heard  them  discuss  the  reward  that  would  be 
forthcoming  because  of  our  capture.  Comforting, 
wasn't  it.^* 

I  blamed  W.  H.  for  our  capture,  and  I  guess  I 
took  a  good  deal  of  my  feeling  out  on  him.  I  saw 
then  that  he  had  been  afraid  to  try  to  cross  the  Border 
and  had  worked  things  so  that  we  would  be  sure  to 
get  caught.  He  had  been  up  as  far  as  the  Border 
once  before  with  two  other  fellows,  both  of  whom 
had  been  shot  when  he  had  been  recaptured.  He 
had  been  pretty  badly  beaten  up  afterward  and  I 
suppose  when  the  memory  of  it  came  back  he  had 
lost  his  nerve. 

The  guards  seemed  to  be  highly  amused  at  my 
show  of  temper  and  apparently  guessed  what  it  was 
about  for  they  kept  telling  us  in  German  we  were 
twelve  miles  from  the  Border.     I  knew  better. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
My  Death  Sentence 

Next  morning  two  guards  with  a  pair  of  lean  and 
hungry  dogs  on  leash  arrived  and  shortly  after 
marched  us  off  down  to  the  little  town  of  Baurlo. 
Rather  an  interesting  incident  happened  on  the  way 
down;  a  middle-aged  man  on  a  bicycle  stopped  and 
asked  the  guards  if  we  were  Frenchmen.  Something 
prompted  me  to  speak,  and  I  said: 

"No.*  We're  Englanders." 

**Is  that  so?"  he  answered  in  perfect  English. 
"Good  morning,  boys,"  and  jumping  off  his  wheel 
he  walked  along  for  quite  a  while  beside  us. 

"Do  your  guards  speak  English .f"'  he  asked,  and 
being  answered  negatively  he  went  on  to  talk  to  us. 

"Where  are  you  from?"  he  asked. 

"The  Auguste-Victoria  coal  mines  in  Hiils,"  I 
answered. 

"Yes,  but  what  part  of  Britain?" 

"Oh,  we're  Canadians." 

"Is  that  so?  Well,  I  have  been  in  Montreal  and 
Toronto." 

"Yes?"  I  queried.  "But  what  are  you?  You're 
not  a  German?" 

"Why  do  you  think  I  am  not?" 

"Because   no  German  ever   speaks   kindly  to   a 
prisoner  unless  he  has  some  end  to  gain  in  doing  so." 

**WeU"  (with  a  smile),  "I  have  no  end  to  gain  and 
I  am  no  longer  a  German.     I  was  born  here  but  I 

i8i 


i82  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

left  Germany  and  spent  twelve  years  in  England 
and  four  in  the  United  States.  Just  before  the  war 
I  came  back  on  a  visit  to  see  some  of  my  people 
and  to  compare  the  British  and  American  ideals  of 
justice  and  freedom  with  those  here — to  see  whether 
conditions  were  as  bad  in  this  country  as  I  had  im- 
agined them  to  be  when  I  left." 

"I  hope  you  are  satisfied,"  I  said  grimly.  "Why 
did  you  stay  here?" 

"Yes,"  came  the  answer,  with  a  frown.  "I  am 
satisfied  and  I  had  no  choice  about  staying.  I  have 
been  trying  ever  since  the  outbreak  of  w^ar  to  get 
away,  but  it  is  no  use.  I  am  forced  to  stay  here  and 
work  till  the  end.  Perhaps  I  shall  never  be  allowed 
to  return  because  no  one  will  believe  that  I  was  not 
recalled  to  take  a  part  in  this  cursed  war." 

Satisfied  that  he  was  to  be  trusted  we  began  to 
ask  him  questions  about  conditions  on  the  Border. 

"How  far  are  we  from  Holland.^"  I  asked.  "The 
guards  say  twelve  miles." 

"They  are  liars,"  he  answered.  "You  are  only 
half  a  mile  from  the  Border.  See  that  bit  of  bush 
across  there?"  (Pointing  across  the  fields.)  "That 
is  in  Holland.  It's  pretty  hard  luck  to  get  caught 
so  close  but  you  will  never  get  over  here.  The 
country  is  alive  with  guards  all  around  here.  Three 
hundred  prisoners  have  been  caught  right  where  3-ou 
were.  But  you  are  better  off  than  some  of  them  for 
about  thirty  have  been  shot."  After  thinking  a 
moment  he  added :  "  But  once  in  a  while  one  or  two 
do  get  through." 

Soon  after  that  we  came  to  the  little  village  where 
we  were  to  take  the  train  back  to  the  camp  and 
the  man  left  us  saying:  "Good-bye,  and  better 
luck  next  time." 

Our  guards  took   us  to  an  office  ^where  we  were 


MY  DEATH  SENTENCE  183 

examined  by  a  young  officer.  He  tried  to  talk  to 
us  in  English  and  while  we  could  understand  him  all 
right  he  couldn't  make  much  out  of  us.  Turning 
to  an  old  interpreter  with  one  eye  who  was  sitting 
behind  a  big  desk,  he  said  in  German:  "I  can't 
understand  these  English  swine.  They  talk  through 
their  noses."  Then  he  started  to  repeat  something 
I  had  said,  trying  to  imitate  my  accent  and  giving 
a  good  deal  of  amusement  to  the  office  staiF,  The 
guards  went  out  presently  to  get  dinner  but  nothing 
was  offered  to  us.  We  asked  the  officer  for  food 
and  he  promised  with  a  sneering  smile  but  we  knew 
he  lied  and  were  not  wrong.  We  offered  money  to 
some,  and  one  chap  did  seem  to  try  to  buy  something 
for  us  but  it  never  materialized. 

Eventually  we  were  put  on  the  train  again  and 
were  on  the  way  to  Miinster  on  the  road  to  Kom- 
mando  47.  On  the  way,  a  young  guard,  one  who  had 
marched  us  down  in  the  morning,  was  trying  to  talk 
to  me  in  German.  I  was  rather  surprised  when, 
unable  to  understand  one  expression,  he  broke  out 
into  English. 

"Where  did  you  learn  that? — and  why  didn't  you 
speak  that  way  before?"  I  asked  him. 

"Oh,  I  don't  speak  very  well,"  came  the  reply. 
"I  learned  a  little  English  in  America.  I  was  two 
years  in  New  York." 

I  looked  at  him  sharply;  apparently  he  understood 
what  was  in  my  mind  for,  before  I  could  speak,  lie 
continued: 

"No,  I  didn't  come  back  to  fight.  I  was  homesick 
and  came  over  on  a  visit  in  the  summer  of  191 4. 
I  was  not  allowed  to  return  but  had  to  join  the  army." 

He  talked  away  to  me  for  quite  a  while  and,  when 
he  was  certain  that  nobody  could  hear  him,  told  me 
how  he  hated  the  whole  German  system,  referring 


184  'A HE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

to  himself  as  "a  d — n  fool"  for  getting  caught. 
I  wondered  whether  he  would  report  the  man  who 
had  talked  with  us  in  the  morning  and  who  had 
certainly  never  dreamed  that  the  guards  would 
understand  what  he  was  saying. 

How  closely  we  were  searched  on  such  occasions 
is  illustrated  by  an  incident  which  occurred  on  our 
arrival  at  Miinster.  Turned  over  to  the  guard 
room,  we  were  most  scrupulously  examined,  so 
carefully  indeed  that  a  tiny  compass — about  the 
size  of  a  five-cent  piece — which  I  had  sewn  in  the 
tail  of  my  coat  and  which  I  thought  surely  was 
beyond  finding,  was  brought  to  light,  I  stood  liable 
for  extra  punishment  for  having  this  in  my  possession 
but  was  able  later  to  persuade  the  officer  in  charge 
of  K47  (to  which  we  were  taken  back  a  little  later) 
to  have  the  charge  withdrawn  on  the  ground  that 
the  compass  had  been  attached  to  a  watch  charm 
sold  in  the  camp  canteen.  Our  money  could  buy 
no  food,  and  about  the  only  thing  we  could  do  with 
it  was  to  purchase  cheap  jewellery  sold  there  or  we 
could  use  it  to  get  our  teeth  fixed  and  it  was  a 
good  time  to  get  that  done,  too;  we  weren't  using 
them  very  much,  just  then, 

I  was  commanded  to  sign  a  paper  declaring  how 
we  had  escaped  and  outlining  everything  we  did 
while  on  the  road  but  refused  to  do  so  unless  the 
officer  in  question  would  agree  to  make  a  statement 
in  his  report  to  the  effect  that  the  compass  was 
only  a  souvenir  and  useless.  He  hated  to  see  me 
escape  the  extra  punishment  but  since  it  would  have 
meant  trouble  for  him  had  it  become  known  that  the 
article  had  been  sold  in  the  camp  he  chose  the  lesser 
of  two  evils  and  I  got  away  with  it.  (Those  state- 
ments of  escape,  by  the  way,  were  masterpieces 
of  the  world's  literature.     We  were  always  ready 


MY  DEATH  SENTENCE  185 

to  tell  any  number  of  lies  if  by  so  doing  we  could 
keep  them  in  ignorance  and  leave  the  way  open  again 
for  the  next  attempt.) 

While  we  were  in  the  Miinster  guard  room  some 
of  the  British  prisoners  passed  by  the  windows. 
By  this  time  we  were  pretty  nearl}^  exhausted  for 
lack  of  food  and  I  guess  our  condition  was  evident. 
Anyway,  they  went  to  Sergt .-Major  Summers,  who, 
after  a  good  deal  of  trouble,  got  permission  from  the 
camp  commandant  to  send  us  in  some  food.  The 
Christmas  parcels,  somewhat  late,  were  just  arriving, 
and  with  their  customary  generosity,  they  made  up 
a  splendid  meal  out  of  their  parcels  and  also  filled 
a  basket  for  us  to  take  along  next  day.  Two  of  them 
who  had  been  with  us  for  some  time  at  the  mines 
were  allowed  to  come  in  to  see  us  and  when  they 
walked  in  one  shouted: 

"Why,  hello,  it's  the  'Kaiser's  Guest.*  How  in 
hell  did  you  get  rid  of  all  your  stripes?  Did  you 
hear  about  Jack  Hughes?" 

"What's  wrong  with  Hughes?"  we  asked. 

"He  was  killed  to-day  trying  to  escape.  It  was 
on  the  way  home  from  work  and  he  hadn't  the  ghost 
of  a  show." 

Then  the  guards  ordered  them  out  and  we  heard 
no  more  of  Hughes  till  later.  So  another  of  the 
gallant  band  gave  his  life  in  trying  to  gain  his  freedom. 

We  were  taken  back  to  K47  next  day,  being 
marched  down  to  the  station  with  a  party  of  Russian- 
Poles  who  had  been  captured  when  with  the  Russian 
army  and  were  being  returned  to  Poland.  They 
were  not  destined  to  stay  long,  however.  Soon 
afterward  the  Germans  formed  the  new  Polish 
Kingdom  and  these  fellows  were  all  drafted  into  a 
new  PoHsh  army  to  fight  against  their  former  allies. 
When  we  saw  them  they  were  jubilant  about  getting 


i86  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

home  to  their  families  again,  but  even  then  they 
were  suspicious  as  to  Germany's  intentions.  It 
looked  too  good  altogether  to  be  through  with  the 
war. 

When  the  train  came  along  we  got  into  a  carriage 
full  of  German  soldiers  returning  on  leave  from  the 
front.  We  made  these  fellows  stare  when,  after 
the  train  pulled  out  and  we  thought  it  a  good  time 
to  have  a  little  lunch,  we  opened  the  basket  given 
us  the  day  before  and  pulled  out  a  big  loaf  of  cake, 
a  tin  of  beef,  part  of  a  tin  of  beans,  a  plum  pudding, 
and  two  or  three  slices  of  white  bread. 

My!  how  those  fellows  did  quiz  the  guards.  Thev 
had  apparently  been  led  to  believe  that  everyone  in 
England  was  starving.  Soon  they  began  to  try 
to  talk  to  us,  pretending  to  be  friendly  in  order,  I 
suppose,  to  satisfy  their  curiosity.  I  was  always 
on  the  look-out  for  information  and  so  met  them 
halfway,  to  get  information  in  my  turn.  I  gave 
several  of  them  a  little  piece  of  cake  each,  which 
obviously  they  greatly  appreciated;  one  young  chap 
told  us  that  that  was  the  first  cake  he  had  eaten  since 
1916.  We  managed  without  quarrelling  to  exchange 
views  on  the  war  and  they  told  us  a  little  about  the 
fighting  on  the  Somme  and  at  Verdun.  They  said 
little  about  the  Somme  and  mighty  cheering  it  was 
to  us  to  have  them  so  gloomy  about  it.  They  re- 
ferred to  our  troops  as  "English  Devils";  one  chap 
said  rather  humorouslA  that  "they  were  so  thick 
on  the  Somme  that  they  (the  Germans)  couldn't 
kill  them" — that  "when  an  Englishman  was  killed 
his  comrades  poured  a  glass  of  rum  down  his  throat 
and  he  would  get  up  and  fight  again." 

They  were  quite  willing  to  talk  and  to  answer 
questions  but  I  could  find  out  little  that  I  wanted 
to  know  except  the  indefinite  story  about  the  Somme 


MY  DEATH  SENTENCE  187 

fighting.  They  certainly  had  a  great  respect  for  the 
Canadians  and  asked  us  if  we  were  always  used  as 
"shock  troops,"  They  also  seemed  to  be  greatly 
interested  in  the  Highlanders  and  one  fellow,  who 
had  been  at  Loos,  spoke  of  the  British  Guards  and 
was  anxious  to  know  how  many  of  them  there  were. 
When  they  asked  how  many  Canadians  were  fighting 
we  told  them  there  were  half  a  million  Guards  and 
two  million  Canadians.  Though  some  were  a  little 
<lubious  most  of  them  went  off  muttering  and  we 
had  the  satisfaction  of  knowing  that  we  had  set  them 
thinking  about  the  situation  a  little  more  seriously 
than  formerly,  any^vay. 

Our  turn  to  be  treated  came  a  little  later.  When, 
passing  through  a  station.  Red  Cross  nurses  gave 
them,  each  a  bowl  of  German  coffee  and  a  little  square 
of  black,  bitter  bread,  they  gave  us  pieces  of  their 
bread  and,  to  save  the  situation,  we  had  to  eat  it, 
chough  it  was  horrible-tasting  stuflF,  particularly 
after  we  had  been  eating  good  old  British  cake. 
One  big  chap  who  said  he  was  from  Berlin  explained 
that  this  v/as  German  cake. 

Shortly  afterward  we  reached  Sin  Sin  station  and 
were  marched  up  to  the  camp  where  we  were  taken 
right  to  the  cells.  We  did  have  one  cheering  bit 
though,  for  we  saw  the  boys  gathered  round  in  the 
yard  as  we  marched  past  and  they  cheered  us  up  as 
much  as  they  dared.  And  the  sympathy  of  their 
sturdy  British  hearts  helped  more  than  they  knew. 

Knowing  from  my  previous  experience  what 
would  happen  when  we  got  back,  I  had  been  pre- 
paring W.  H.,  and,  considering  the  part  he  had 
played — which  I  now  knew  had  led  to  our  capture — 
it  was  with  some  satisfaction  that  I  saw  a  haunted 
look  come  into  his  eyes  and  listened  to  the  arguments 
he  used  in  order  to  keep  up  his  courage.     It  was 


i88  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

cruel  amusement,  I  suppose;  but,  considering  the 
circumstances,  I  submit  that  it  was  justified. 

However,  the  worst  was  yet  to  come.  It  was 
the  middle  of  winter  the  coldest,  the  Germans 
claimed,  for  a  hundred  years.  The  jail  was  a  brick 
building  without  a  particle  of  heat  of  any  kind. 
And  those  brutes  jammed  us  in  the  pill-box  cells, 
hardly  big  enough  to  turn  around  in,  without  a 
semblance  of  furniture,  dark  and  stinking  with  foul 
air  and  filth,  and  to  make  matters  worse,  took  away 
nearly  all  our  clothes.  And  that  wasn't  all.  All 
was  quiet  for  an  hour  but  I  was  suspicious,  and  kept 
listening.  At  last  stealthy  footsteps  approached 
and  the  outer  door  of  the  jail  was  opened.  I  could 
hear  the  steps  of  three  or  four  men  in  the  passage. 
Then  came  a  click  as  the  bolt  of  W.H.'s  cell,  farther 
down  the  passage,  was  drawn  back.  In  a  moment 
there  was  a  sharp  cry  of  pain  and  the  sound  of  a 
body  falUng  heavily.  Then  from  what  I  heard 
I  knew  that  the  guards  were  kicking  and  pounding 
him.  This  continued  till  long  after  he  had  ceased 
to  moan  and  I  concluded  that  unconsciousness  had 
mercifully  come  to  his  help. 

I  was  raging  in  my  cell  like  a  wild  animal,  throwing 
my  weight  against  the  door  in  an  attempt  to  break 
out  and  to  face  the  brutes  in  something  Hke  a  fair 
fight.  But  it  was  no  use.  Soon  I  heard  the  foot- 
steps approach  quietly  and  my  bolt  was  drawn.  1 
had  planned  to  try  to  charge  through  the  door  when 
it  was  opened,  to  make  an  attempt  to  get  into  the 
yard  where  I  would  most  certainly  have  been  shot. 
Thoughts  of  that  had  little  terrors,  for  anything  was 
preferable  to  being  kept  in  that  black,  stinking  cell 
and  to  be  beaten  into  the  bargain.  Thanks  to  the 
Ked  Cross  I  had  a  pair  of  good  heavy  shoes  and  for 
once,  anyway,  they  were  well  used.     Fortunately  for 


MY  DEATH  SENTENCE  189 

me  the  cell  was  too  narrow  for  more  than  one  to  get 
at  me  at  once.  Then,  while  there  was  a  little  light 
coming  from  the  outside,  my  cell  was  perfectly 
dark  and  they  couldn't  see  me.  Every  once  in  a 
while  from  the  grunts  and  cries  I  knew  I  had  landed 
on  somebody.  I  fought  like  a  wild  cat  and  got  pretty 
badly  cut  up  but  it  was  hard  for  them  to  get  at  me. 
Finally  they  got  enough,  for  they  shut  the  door 
and  talked  outside  for  quite  a  while.  Eventually 
they  must  have  decided  to  call  it  a  draw,  for  they 
went  away. 

We  nearly  froze  to  death  that  night.  It  might 
have  been  a  merciful  release.  But-  Providence 
apparently  hadn't  so  ordered  it.  There  was  still 
more  to  come. 

About  nine  next  morning  we  were  taken  out  and, 
just  as  we  were,  without  food  or  water,  were  made  to 
stand  to  Attention  in  the  snow.     The  sentry  who  was 
specially  guarding  us  kept  poking  fun  at  us  in  char-, 
acteristically  coarse,  German  fashion. 

I  knew  W.  H.  was  about  at  the  end  of  his  endur- 
ance, and  so  was  not  surprised  when  he  pitched  over 
on  his  face,  "dead  to  the  world."  He  lay  there  in 
the  snow  quite  a  while  before  the  guard  would  let 
any  one  move  him,  but  in  the  end  they  thought  he 
would  freeze  to  death,  I  suppose,  so  two  of  our  boys 
were  allowed  to  pick  him  up  and  carry  him  off  to  the 
hospital.  I  was  kept  out  in  the  cold  till  about  four 
o'clock  when  I  was  allowed,  for  the  time  being,  to  go 
to  the  barracks.  There  the  boys  had  a  good  meal 
ready  for  me  and  I  was  digging  in  heartily  while  the 
fellows  were  all  gathered  round  trying  to  cheer  me 
up  when  a  guard  came  for  me  and  marched  me  off 
to  the  camp  office.  Here  the  old  officer  in  charge 
gave  me  a  lecture  on  prison-camp  discipline,  work- 
ing himself  into  a  passion,  calling  me  all  the  vile 


I90  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

names  he  could  think  of,  and  try'lng  in  every  way  pos- 
sible to  make  me  cringe.  Finally  he  ordered  me  to 
take  off  my  boots  and  put  on  a  big  pair  of  wooden 
shoes,  telling  me  that  now  I  had  been  away  twice 
they  didn't  propose  to  be  watching  me  all  the  time 
and  were  going  to  fix  me.  He  spoke  in  German,  and 
Johnson,  the  interpreter,  repeated  what  he  said. 

"You  are  always  running  away,"  he  went  on,  "and 
will  not  take  our  warning.  We  punish  you  but  it  is 
no  use  and  now  we  will  kill  you  with  work.  Work, 
work,  you  must  always,  ever  work." 

He  ground  the  words  out  slowly  and  harshly  from 
deep  down  in  his  throat  and  I  knew  it  was  my  death 
sentence  from  which  only  a  miracle  could  save  me. 
Then: 

"  Fich  !  los  I  Englander  SchweinI"  And  I  came 
to  myself  out  in  the  yard,  hobbling  along  in  those 
huge,  rough  shoes  which  hurt  cruelly.  At  six  o'clock 
I  was  turned  in  with  the  night  shift  on  the  Kokerie 
and  the  guards  started  to  keep  the  old  officer's  prom- 
ise. A  special  sentry  was  placed  over  me  with  in- 
structions to  pay  no  attention  to  any  one  else  but  to 
keep  me  going  continually. 

Thirty-two  tons  of  coke  to  be  loaded  on  cars  on  the 
siding.  That  was  the  night's  stint.  And  I  was  given 
the  worst  place  and  forced  to  wheel  my  quota  from 
the  centre  of  the  ovens  to  the  crusher  at  either  end 
over  broken  and  irregular  plates.  The  others  trav- 
elled from  the  oven  to  the  cars  only,  about  half  the 
distance  and  down  a  slight  slope. 

Work,  work,  work!  While  the  sweat  poured  off 
my  body  and  my  lungs  burned  and  choked  with  poi- 
sonous gases  from  the  hot  coke.  Work,  while  the 
sinister,  gray  figure  of  the  sentry  stalked  up  and 
down,  ready  to  pounce  on  me  with  kicks  and  curses 
if  I  offered  to  let  up  for  even  a  moment.     Soon  my 


MY  DEATH  SENTENCE  191 

back  seemed  breaking  and  I  could  no  longer  straighten 
up  but  drove  the  huge  fork  into  the  steaming  coke 
and  lifted  the  heavy  stuff  into  the  barrow.  Up  and 
down,  up  and  down,  a  steady,  ceaseless  grind,  until 
my  head  was  splitting  and  I  was  suffering  the  tor- 
ments of  the  damned.  If  ever  I  hated,  I  did  then 
and  I  prayed  a  good  many  times:  "O  God,  for  j 
chance,  only  a  chance  to  kill  him,  come  what  may.' 
But  no  chance  was  given. 

Five  nights  I  struggled  under  those  conditions) 
growing  gradually  weaker.  Then  I  found  a  way, 
hideously  painful  though  it  was,  to  get  away  from  it: 
That  fifth  night  has  a  story  all  by  itself,  though  it 
largely  concerns  another  of  our  fellows,  who  also^ 
thank  God,  has  since  escaped  from  that  earthly 
branch  of  hell. 

Fred  Boyd — we  called  him  "Toby" — a  young, 
smooth-faced  boy  from  Fredericton,  N.  B.,  who  was 
afraid  of  nothing  and  always  ready  to  hold  up  his 
end — had  been  working  with  the  civilians  down  in 
the  mine,  but  had  got  into  trouble  with  the  bosses. 
For  punishment,  as  usual,  he  was  allotted  to  the 
Kokerie.  That  night  was  his  first,  and  he  hadn't 
become  accustomed  to  Kokerie  methods.  When  a 
big  red-headed  boss  came  along  and  kicked  him  with 
his  rough,  wooden  shoes  Toby  promptly  knocked  the 
beggar  down,  giving  him  a  beautiful  pair  of  black 
eyes.  The  German  scrambled  to  his  feet  and  made 
off,  blind  with  rage,  and  to  our  surprise  did  not  come 
back. 

A  Httle  while  after,  however,  another  boss  came 
along  and,  approaching  Toby  rather  quietly,  told 
him  that  he  was  working  too  hard,  that  he  was  to 
come  over  to  an  easier  job.  Toby  wasn't  easily 
fooled  and,  though  he  knew  he  would  have  to  follow, 
he  made  preparations  by  picking  up  a  heavy  glass 


192  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

bottle  in  which  he  used  to  carry  drinking  water  and 
slipping  it  into  his  pocket.  He  followed  the  guard 
down  the  steps  and  into  a  dark  corner  to  a  spot 
where  a  shovel  was  sticking  in  a  pile  of  sand.  Three 
or  four  civilians  were  standing  around  and  one  of 
them  ordered  Toby  to  begin  shovelling.  When  he 
stooped  they  all  rushed  at  him.  Like  a  flash  Toby 
yanked  out  the  bottle  and,  before  they  could  get  hold 
of  him,  had  laid  two  of  them  out.  Turning,  he  ran 
for  the  opening.  Behind  him  the  old  boss,  who  had 
kicked  him,  and  who  had  a  gun  ready,  fired  three 
shots  but  missed  entirely.  Coming  out  from  beneath 
the  building  Toby  ran  right  into  the  arms  of  one  of 
the  worst  guards.  Things  looked  bad  for  a  moment 
but  the  bad  feeling  between  the  guards  and  the 
civiHans  proved  his  salvation  and  he  was  protected 
against  further  prosecution  by  that  gang.  He  was 
transferred  to  another  shift. 

About  five  o'clock  next  day,  while  sitting  in  front 
of  the  stove  in  the  barracks,  boiling  my  tea  before 
going  back  to  that  heUish  work,  and  appreciating 
that  the  end  was  surely  approaching,  I  was  trying  to 
scheme  something  that  would  get  me  out  of  it. 
My  kettle  was  boiling  away  cheerfully  when,  sud- 
denly, an  idea  hit  me.  Grabbing  the  kettle  I  poured 
the  scalding  water  over  my  left  hand.  It  hurt  ter- 
ribl}'^  and  all  the  boys  began  to  cry  out  in  horror. 
In  a  moment,  though,  they  saw  what  was  meant 
and  then  they  said:  "Good  old  Mac.     Be  British." 

Without  giving  the  hand  any  chance  to  blister  I 
boiled  up  the  kettle  twice  more  and  repeated  the  dose 
twice  over.  Then  rushing  down  to  the  hospital,  I 
showed  my  hand  to  the  French  orderly,  telling  him  I 
had  scalded  it  on  the  Kokerie.  Even  when  he 
dressed  it  and  made  considerable  fuss  over  it  I  had 
a  good  deal  of  trouble  in  persuading  the  old  German 


MY  DEATH  SENTENCE  193 

doctor  to  let  me  off  work,  but  ultimately  he  consented 
and  I  went  back  to  barracks.  I  suffered  terribly  all 
night  and  when  the  doctor  came  in  the  morning 
and  ripped  off  the  dressing  he  took  all  the  skin  and 
most  of  the  flesh  from  the  hand,  so  that  the  cords  and 
bones  were  almost  bare.  He  said  I  would  lose  my 
hand  and  I  was  glad,  for  that  meant  that  I  would  be 
sent  back  to  Munster  to  the  hospital  and  possibly  be 
exchanged. 

My  hopes  were  pretty  quickly  nipped  in  the  bud, 
though,  for  at  about  seven  o'clock,  when  one  of  the 
guards  came  in,  shouting  my  name  and  number — 
and  I  was  expecting  to  be  ordered  to  get  ready  to  go 
to  Miinster — I  was  marched  off  to  the  black  cells 
and  kept  there  all  that  day.  That  night  one  of  the 
French,  an  interpreter  and  a  splendid  fellow,  told  the 
guards  that  if  I  was  not  taken  out  the  boys  would  go 
on  strike  and  persuaded  them  to  take  me  before  the 
doctor  again.  This  time  he  ordered  me  into  the 
camp  hospital  and  for  a  few  days  I  had  what  was 
a  peaceful  experience,  compared  with  what  had  gone 
before. 


CHAPTER  XIV 
Transferred  to  Munster 

In  the  meantime,  matters  dragged  along  about  as 
usual  with  the  other  boys  in  the  camp.  They  played 
cards  when  they  could  (which  was  not  often)  but 
at  all  times  they  watched  the  guards  as  a  cat  watches 
a  mouse.  Most  of  the  Canadians  were  planning 
more  or  less  definitely  to  try  to  escape  though  Wallie 
Nicholson  and  I  had  been  the  only  two  to  try  it  so 
far.  The  Old-Country  boys,  while  trying  in  every 
way  to  render  themselves  of  as  little  use  as  possible  to 
the  enemy — getting  into  the  jails  and  hospitals  very 
frequently  and  all  the  time  "Being  British" — were 
less  inclined  to  fight  the  conditions  than  the  Cana- 
dians and  were  tending  to  become  somewhat  recon- 
ciled to  their  lot,  slavery  of  the  worst  type  though  it 
was.  Some  of  them,  in  default  of  anything  better, 
passed  their  time  in  knitting  belts  and  sweaters,  in 
all  sorts  of  fancy  patterns,  which  one  or  two  had 
learned  during  service  in  India.  One  day  one  of 
them  said  to  me: 

"Poor  old  'Kaiser's  Guest.'  You  are  always  too 
busy  to  knit — too  busy  getting  ready  to  go  home — 
so  I'll  knit  you  a  belt," 

He  was  as  good  as  his  word  and  had  it  about  half 
done  when  he  was  hurt  in  the  mine.  It  was  finished 
by  another  English  lad  and  I  was  able  to  bring  it 
out  with  me.  You  may  be  sure  I  shall  always  prize 
it  as  one  of  my  most  valued  souvenirs. 

194 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MONSTER  19S 

The  French  amused  themselves  somewhat  simi- 
larly in  making  fancy  picture  frames,  which  they  faced 
with  thio  bits  of  mirror.  From  a  round  spot  in  the 
centre  the  quicksilver  would  be  scraped  to  provide 
for  the  insertion  of  a  photograph,  and  wording  such 
as  "Souvenir  de  Captivite,  iQi4-iQi^-igi6"  would  be 
scraped  out  below. 

Once  in  a  while  a  pessimistic  Frenchman  would 
show  us  a  frame  in  which  191 7  had  been  added  to 
the  years,  but  this  would  precipitate  a  row  at  once. 
Why,  wasn't  the  war  to  be  over  in  two  or  three 
months.?  Surely.  Even  as  the  months  and  years 
dragged  slowly  by  it  was  always  the  same.  The  end 
of  the  war  was  always  only  two  or  three  months 
away.  There  was  no  room  for  a  pessimist  in  that 
camp.  Bad  news  was  always  considered  no  news; 
good  news  was  always  taken  to  be  true.  We  never 
for  a  moment  lost  faith  in  the  final  victory  of  the 
Allies  and  we  cheered  one  another  in  every  way  we 
knew  how.  Some  of  this  cheering-up  became  rather 
ironical  at  times,  as,  for  instance,  when  one  of  the 
fellows  would  say,  hopefully: 

"Well,  the  longest  war  before  lasted  only  a  hun- 
dred years." 

I  often  heard  poor  fellows  who  had  endured  three 
years  and  more  in  camp  say : 

"I  would  rather  stay  here  twenty  years,  and  die 
here  than  see  the  Germans  win." 

But  to  revert  to  my  own  troubles.  While  I  was 
in  the  hospital  by  reason  of  my  scalded  hand  an  offi- 
cer arrived  from  Miinster  to  look  into  a  complaint 
I  had  made.  And  thereby  hangs  another  story 
which  had  better  be  told  first. 

When  W,  H.  and  I  had  been  caught  a  little  time 
before  we  had  had  to  make  the  usual  statement  as 
to  how  and  why  we  escaped.     We  had  prepared  a 


196  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

story  carefully  beforehand,  knowing  from  previous  ex- 
perience what  would  likely  be  demanded  and  de- 
clared that  we  had  gone  into  the  room  where  we 
changed  our  clothes,  back  of  the  Kokerie^  and  had 
slipped  out  with  the  German  civilians  who  shared 
the  building  with  us.  We  were  anxious,  you  see,  to 
hide  the  real  method,  so  that  it  might  give  us  an- 
other chance.  We  had  learned  that  they  had  not 
missed  us  for  some  time  and  until  the  other  prisoners 
had  been  counted  on  the  night  of  our  escape.  The 
guards  believed  our  story  and  the  statement  was 
accordingly  translated  into  German,  copies  of  which 
we  both  signed.  These  w^ere  sent  into  Miinster  for 
our  trial,  at  which,  by  the  way,  we  ourselves  were  not 
allowed  to  be  present.  There  was  still  punishment  to 
come  to  us,  and  as  it  was  usually  about  two  months 
after  statements  were  sent  in  before  sentences  were 
promulgated,  we  had  lots  of  time  to  get  ready,  you 
see.  We  always  anticipated  the  worst — ajid  got  it. 
Two  days  after  we  had  been  beaten  up  in  the  cells 
I  went  to  the  guards  and  insisted  on  seeing  the  com- 
mandant of  the  camp.  Largely  because  the  impu- 
dence of  my  demand  surprised  them,  I  guess,  I  was 
allowed  in  to  see  the  old  chap  who  had  so  strongly 
impressed  the  working-death  sentence  on  me. 
Through  Johnson,  the  interpreter,  I  told  him  that  I 
would  send  a  complaint  in  to  Miinster  about  the 
treatment  I  was  getting  and  about  that  beating  up. 
Naturally  the  old  fellow  raged,  but  when  I  told  him 
that  if  he  wouldn't  pass  that  complaint  I  would  make 
it  to  the  next  visiting  ambassador  and  get  him  into 
trouble,  or,  failing  that,  would  escape  and  walk  to 
Miinster  to  tell  them  of  conditions,  he  eventually, 
with  a  good  deal  of  bluster,  consented  to  allow  the 
complaint  to  go  through.  W,  H.  was  called  in  and, 
together,  we  made  a  joint  complaint  in  which  we 


1 


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■''■j^^i^//-AlJ  "^^"^ 


-i 


V.  '/v  . 

r 

V 

'/■%/tfi. 

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, 

kv 


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r  z 


Statement  of  complaint  made  by  the  Author 

and  W.  H. ,  to  the  officer 

commanding  K47 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MUNSTER  197 

stated  our  troubles  and  asked  for  an  investigation. 
This  was  addressed  to  the  General  Cornmanding 
Munster  Camp.  It  was  signed  by  both,  as  is  evident 
on  the  original  document,  still  in  my  possession. 

Now  comes  the  dirty  work.  The  officer  refused 
to  accept  this  joint  complaint  but  declared  that  we 
must  each  make  out  a  document,  separately.  I 
made  one  out,  but  they  got  hold  of  W.  H.,  alone,  and 
persuaded  him  to  withdraw  his  complaint  and  to 
sign  a  written  statement  (prepared  by  them)  to  the 
effect  that  he  had  no  complaint  to  make,  that  he  had 
been  well  treated,  and  that  he  believed  I  had  had  the 
same  treatment.  He  also  told  this  time  how  we 
really  had  escaped,  thus  contradicting  our  first 
statement,  and  finished  by  begging  the  general  to 
deal  leniently  with  him. 

I  never  could  find  out  what  artifice  the  Germans 
resorted  to  to  make  him  do  such  a  thing;  indeed,  not 
till  I  learned  it  from  the  French  interpreter  a  day  or 
two  later,  did  I  know  what  he  had  done,  but  I  knew 
that  something  was  wrong,  for,  when  my  complaint 
was  ready,  W.  H.  refused  to  put  his  in. 

Since  Johnson  the  interpreter  had  translated  my 
statement  before  it  was  sent  on  to  Munster  it  was 
out  of  the  question  for  me  to  have  any  adequate 
idea  of  what  went  in  it.  So  when  the  officer  arrived 
I  didn't  know,  for  a  while,  whether  to  be  glad  or 
sorry.  In  any  event,  I  was  brought  before  him  in  a 
sort  of  investigation,  with  Johnson  as  interpreter 
again.  I  was  denied  any  other  interpreter  and 
also,  when  I  asked  to  have  some  of  the  other  boys 
called  as  witnesses,  my  request  was  refused.  Finally, 
Johnson  wrote  out  a  statement  alleging  to  be  what  I 
had  said  but  which  of  course  he  rnade  out  to  suit 
himself,  and  this  I  was  called  on  to  sign. 

Then  I  was  asked  to  name  the  guards  who  had 


I9S  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

beaten  me.  This  was  impossible  for  I  didn't  know 
one  of  them  by  name,  except  Johnson.  However,  I 
insisted  that  I  could  pick  them  out,  so  they  took  me 
to  the  guard  room.  As  luck  would  have  it  the  ones 
I  wanted  weren't  there,  but  when  others  were  brought 
in  I  picked  out  two  I  had  recognized  in  the  streaks 
of  light  that  night  in  the  jail.  These  two  were 
brought  into  the  office  but  both  swore  that  they 
had  had  nothing  to  do  with  W.  H.  and  me  but  that 
we  had  attacked  them.  I  suppose  they  were  right, 
so  far  as  I  was  concerned,  for  I  certainly  went  for 
them  fii-st  when  the  door  was  opened.  So  the  in- 
vestigation didn't  amount  to  much.  However, 
the  doctor  soon  ordered  my  long-desired  release  to 
Miinster  and  I  escaped  the  relentless  enmity  of  my 
guards  for  a  while. 

On  a  bitterly  cold  morning  in  January  five  or 
six  of  us  were  ordered  to  fall  in  with  all  our  belong- 
ings on  our  backs  outside  the  barracks.  We  were 
all  as  happy  as  kids,  for  a  wound  that  was  severe 
enough  to  take  one  to  Miinster  was  welcomed  just 
as  a  "Cushy  Blighty"  is  by  the  boys  in  France. 
As  we  marched  out  of  the  gate  under  the  watch  of 
two  guards,  our  friends,  who  all  wisheid  they  were 
in  our  shoes,  wished  us  good  luck.  Our  spirits  were 
even  raised  further  when  the  guards  told  us  that  we 
would  never  be  brought  back,  that  no  more  English- 
men would  be  brought  to  the  Auguste-Victoria 
mines.     We  prayed  fervently  that  this  might  be  so. 

Arriving  at  Miinster  after  a  short  railway  trip  we 
were  hurried  out  of  the  train  and  station  and  stood 
up  against  a  wall  outside  while  a  regiment  of  German 
soldiers  marched  past.  We  could  not  help  remark- 
ing the  low  stature,  poor  physique,  and  generally 
worn  appearance  of  the  men,  most  of  whom  seemed 
to  be  mere  youths.     The  years  during  which  they 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MUNSTER  199 

should  have  been  filHng  out  into  the  stalwart  men 
their  race  has  produced  had  been  spent  in  the  mines 
and  factories  where  they  had  been  overworked  and 
underfed.  They  formed  a  very  poor  comparison 
with  the  big  Britishers  Hned  up  along  the  wall,  even 
though  most  of  us  were  gaunt  from  starvation. 
While  we  stood  there  a  big  Welsh  guardsman  beside 
me  whispered: 

"I'll  bet  they're  wondering  if  we  are  a  fair  sample 
of  what  they'll  be  up  against  on  the  western  front." 

We  had  a  march  of  four  miles  to  the  camp  and  just 
before  we  reached  the  yard,  inside  the  main  gate,  an 
old  Feldwehel  (Sergeant-major)  stopped  us  and  went 
through  our  baggage,  scattering  food  and  clothing 
around  in  the  dirt  like  a  mad  bull.  The  French  pris- 
oners had  brought  with  them  some  of  the  trinkets 
they  had  made  and  these  were  scattered  all  over  the 
yard.  However,  when  the  old  chap  was  satisfied 
that  we  had  nothing  objectionable  we  got  our  stuff 
into  our  bags  again  and  followed  him  to  our  barracks, 
a  section  of  the  building  called  the  '' Krankenstube,'* 
a  sort  of  semi-hospital.  Here  I  was  to  stay  for  about 
two  months,  every  morning  of  which  I  went  over  to 
the  hospital  to  have  my  hand  dressed.  We  were 
looked  after  by  British  Red  Cross  men  and  a  Russian 
doctor  but  also  underwent  an  examination  by  a 
German  doctor  about  once  a  week. 

While  my  hand  continued  to  be  painful  it  did  not 
hinder  me  from  wandering  about.  And  since  we 
were  given  much  more  freedom  here  the  life  was  very 
much  easier.  Indeed  I  have  pleasanter  memories 
of  Miinster  Lager  Zwei  (Renbahn  camp)  than  of 
any  other  spot  in  Germany.  It  is  known  to  be  one 
of  the  best  camps.  The  change  from  the  "Black 
Hole"  was  certainly  a  marked  one. 

It  was   interesting   here   to   study   the  prisoner- 


200  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

population.  This  was  floating,  since  the  men  were 
constantly  being  transferred  to  other  localities  or 
being  sent  out  as  working  parties  in  all  parts  of  the 
country,  while  others  were  coming  in  from  other 
camps  to  hospital,  or  for  sentence  after  some  real  or 
fancied  misdemeanour.  They  were  a  most  cos- 
mopolitan crew.  Not  only  was  every  nation  taking 
part  in  the  war  represented  but  ever>"  division  of  the 
different  allied  forces,  as  well  as  the  different  classes 
of  each,  were  to  be  seen.  The  good  feeling  which 
existed  between  all  these  was  remarkable.  It  was 
remarkable,  also,  that  after  a  little  time  almost  any 
prisoner  could  talk,  with  more  or  less  freedom,  with 
any  other.  Peculiarly,  it  seems,  there  had  come  into 
being  a  sort  of  prison  language  which  was  generally 
dubbed  "Gefangenese."  This  had  broken-German 
as  a  backbone  and  was  otherwise  made  up  of  odds 
and  ends  of  all  the  others.  It  was  strange  to  see 
and  to  take  part  in  a  conversation  with  a  party  of 
prisoners  from  a  dozen  or  more  different  countries, 
not  one  of  which  could  understand  any  of  the  others 
had  he  spoken  in  his  own  language,  but  the  members 
of  which  were  able  to  converse  quite  readily  in  this 
common  language. 

While  conditions  in  general  were  better  I  suffered  a 
good  deal  the  first  two  months  in  Miinster  from  lack 
of  food.  The  parcel  system  had  been  recently  taken 
over  by  the  Red  Cross,  which  supplied  clothing, 
food,  smokes,  and  all  our  hospital  and  medical  sup- 
plies. The  Red  Cross  made  only  one  mistake. 
They  stopped  the  old  system  before  the  new  one 
was  working  and  in  consequence  a  lot  of  us  who  had 
been  moved  from  one  camp  to  the  other  were  with- 
out any  supplies  for  fully  two  months.  Those  were 
mighty  lean  months  and  most  of  us  lived  on  Porridge 
(without  milk  or  sugar)  from  oatmeal  we  had  saved 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MUNSTER  201 

up,  but  they  made  us  appreciate  what  the  Red  Cross 
was  doing  and  how  splendidly  the  system  worked 
out  afterward. 

Every  six  months,  in  addition  to  our  regular  food 
parcels,  we  would  be  sent  a  full  outfit  of  clothing. 
Some  of  the  British  prisoners  to  whom  civilian  cloth- 
ing had  been  sent  out  formerly  had  gathered  quite 
a  wardrobe,  but  in  May  of  1917  the  Germans  began 
seizing  all  extra  clothing,  leaving  us  only  a  change 
of  underwear  and  one  suit.  In  some  camps  they 
took  all  the  prisoners'  boots  but  one  pair  per  man 
and  in  others  took  all — even  to  the  last  one — issu- 
ing wooden  clogs  in  their  place.  Their  excuse  for 
all  this  was  that  they  had  nothing  to  mend  these 
things  with.  It  told  us  a  good  deal,  however,  of 
how  short  such  supplies  were  becoming  in  Germany. 
In  Miinster  we  heard  in  advance  of  what  was  happen- 
ing and  either  destroyed  our  extra  clothing  or  gave 
it  to  the  poor  ragged  Russians  who  had  no  parcels  of 
any  kind  coming,  rather  than  let  it  fall  into  the 
Germans'  hands.  Memorable  days  in  camp  were 
those  when  our  parcels  arrived,  when  the  sergeant 
in  charge  came  in  and  shouted:  "Parcels  up!" 
He  would  then  proceed  to  read  off  the  names,  the 
number  of  parcels  for  each  fortunate  man,  and  the 
time  of  issue.  Everyone  would  be  speculating  as 
to  whether  his  parcel  contained  bread  or  biscuits 
or  the  long-looked-for  tobacco  and  cigarettes.  The 
fellows  would  be  saying:  "I  hope  it  is  food,  our 
box  is  empty";  or,  "I  haven't  had  a  smoke  for  a 
week";  or  *'I  hope  it  is  a  bundle  of  clothes — I  am 
about  bare-footed." 

When  the  time  came  we  all  formed  in  line  outside 
the  parcel  room,  which  was  long  and  narrow  with  a 
door  at  each  end  and  a  counter  right  down  the  centre. 
Behind  the  counter  stood  a  number  of  Germans  who 


202  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

acted  as  censors.  The  procedure  was  this:  One 
of  "The  Parcel  Gang,"  a  British  prisoner,  would 
pick  a  parcel  from  the  pile  and  lay  it  on  the  counter, 
calling  the  name  as  he  did  so.  The  owner  would 
step  foi'ward,  take  it,  sign  for  it,  and  then  pass  it 
to  one  of  the  censors,  who  would  cut  it  open  and 
carefully  examine  the  contents.  This  was  done 
thoroughly.  For  instance,  pepper  and  acids  of 
any  sort  were  confiscated;  all  food  packages,  except 
those  in  tin,  were  cut  open  to  see  that  no  forbidden 
articles,  or  letters  or  newspapers,  were  enclosed. 
The  tinned  food  was  treated  separately,  being  taken 
to  the  other  end  of  the  counter  where  it  was  checked 
up  by  another  member  of  the  parcel  gang.  The 
prisoner  was  given  a  check  for  each  tin,  with  a  note 
as  to  the  contents,  while  the  tins  were  moved  to 
another  building  to  be  held  till  called  for.  This 
tinned  stuff  was  available  for  a  short  time  every 
morning  and  evening.  Each  tin  had  to  be  opened, 
however,  by  another  censor,  who  would  dig  into  it 
to  see  that  the  contents  were  not  camouflaged.  The 
food  itself  was  carried  away  on  a  plate  or  dish. 
The  tins  had  to  be  left  behind,  for  which  there  was  a 
special  reason.  By  this  time  the  Germans  were 
running  short  of  tin  and  were  conserving  every  avail- 
able atom.  These  cans  were  carefully  kept  piled  up, 
later  hammered  into  more  portable  shape,  and  then 
sent  away  to  be  smelted. 

The  old  censor  who  opened  our  tins  at  Miinster 
was  certainly  no  respecter  of  foods.  Everything 
looked  alike  to  him.  He  would  jam  that  dirty 
old  knife  of  his  down  into  a  can  of  herring  one 
minute  and  then  into  jam  the  next.  We  kicked,  but 
it  did  absolutely  no  good. 

Despite  Httle  annoyances  like  this,  hfe  in  Miinster 
Camp  was  so  much  of  an  improvement  over  what 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MUNSTER  203 

we  had  been  experiencing  that  it  seemed  pretty  good. 
There  was  very  Uttle  disturbance  here  and  for  a 
very  good  reason.  The  guards  were  overbearing 
and  no  kinder  to  us  than  they  could  help,  but  there 
was  more  incentive  here  to  keep  on  our  good  be- 
haviour. If  any  one  stirred  up  a  fuss  he  knew  that 
he  would  be  sent  out  with  one  of  the  working  parties 
where  conditions  were  much  worse.  No  one  wanted 
to  go,  so  we  did  everything  possible  to  please  the 
guards.  Our  work,  too,  was  neither  so  heavy  nor  so 
galling.  Perhaps  the  pleasant  part  about  it  was  that  it 
was  of  such  a  nature  that  it  did  not  seem  to  be  helping 
the  Germans  themselves,  but  was  rather  directed 
toward  helping  our  own  comrades.  Camp  fatigues, 
work  with  the  mail  and  parcel  gangs,  and  odd  jobs 
around  the  camp  kept  most  of  us  busy,  while  a  few 
of  the  boys  who  had  become  familiar  with  German 
were  employed  in  the  camp  offices.  Here  they  had 
an  opportunity  occasionally  to  get  hold  of  the  Ger- 
man newspapers  which  they  translated  into  English 
for  the  rest  of  us.  We  never  seemed  to  find  very 
much  news,  however. 

Another  helpful  feature  was  a  fairly  good  library 
which  had  been  donated  by  someone  in  England. 
Those  of  the  boys  who  wanted  to  study  any  subject 
outside  of  the  war  could  usually  get  hold  of  any  book 
needed.  There  were  some  British  papers  and  maga- 
zines, too,  but  all  issued  before  the  war.  Several 
German  magazines  and  illustrated  papers  also  were 
given  us  and,  although  the  illustrations  in  these 
seemed  to  be  splendidly  worked  up,  we  were,  natur- 
ally, not  very  much  interested. 

Sundays  we  were  allowed  to  play  football  and  from 
this  we  drew  a  good  deal  of  satisfaction.  Some 
semblance  to  a  league  was  arranged  when  No.  2 
Block  (in  which  I  was  located)  would  play  against 


204  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

No.  I,  Again  a  team  of  British  fellows  would  play  a 
team  of  French.  Rarely  the  French  would  win, 
but  when  they  did  there  was  an  enormous  amount  of 
excitement.  Occasionally  there  was  a  chance  to 
play  cricket,  and  several  French  and  Belgian  games 
— the  names  of  which  I  do  not  know — ^were  indulged 
in. 

At  K47  we  were  never  allowed  to  have  anything 
in  the  shape  of  a  concert.  Here  it  was  different. 
Every  two  weeks  something  of  the  kind  was  put  on 
and,  as  can  be  imagined,  out  of  so  large  a  number  of 
men  some  very  good  talent  was  available.  Some  of 
the  sketches,  usually  altogether  original,  were  splen- 
did. For  a  time  a  band,  made  up  of  players  of 
all  nationalities,  played  at  these  concerts,  but  as 
the  band  was  continually  in  trouble  it  was  finally 
dissolved. 

Of  course  we  still  tended  to  gambling,  whenever 
it  was  possible.  One  of  the  most  popular  games  in 
that  camp  was  "Crown  and  Anchor,"  well  known 
among  British  soldiers  everywhere.  It  was  for- 
bidden and  the  owners  of  the  boards  were  arrested 
whenever  they  were  caught,  but  the  thing  went  on 
just  the  same.  Another  chap  and  I  had  an  experi- 
ence with  a  board  of  this  kind  which  we  induced 
one  of  the  French  tailors  to  make  up  for  us  out  of  a 
big  bandanna  handkerchief,  though  our  game  was 
made  for  a  special  purpose  which  may  be  worth  tell- 
ing about. 

All  the  time  I  was  in  the  camp  the  thought  of 
getting  away  again  was  never  out  of  my  mind.  I 
gradually  removed  the  extra  marks  from  my  cloth- 
ing, and,  in  this  much  larger  camp  with  a  population 
many  times  that  of  K47  and  where  I  was  less  famous 
(or  perhaps,  better,  infamous),  this  did  not  attract 
the  attention  it  would  have  done  in  the  smaller  one. 


EVEN  A  LITILE  FUN  AT  TIMES 

British    soldier-prisoners     taking     part    in     a 

"sketch"  in  Munster  Camp 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MUNSTER  205 

Whenever  a  prisoner  arrived  who  had  tried  to  escape 
I  made  friends  with  him  and  found  out  as  much  as 
I  could  about  all  he  had  heard  or  seen  on  his  trip. 

In  this  way  I  became  acquainted  with  a  little 
Belgian  corporal  who  had  spent  a  good  deal  of  time 
in  Germany  and  Holland  before  the  war  and  who 
knew  the  country  well.  Besides  this,  he  had  picked 
up  much  information  on  an  attempted  escape. 
When  I  confided  to  him  my  determination  to  get  out 
of  Germany  or  die  in  the  attempt,  he  told  me  that 
I  would  never  get  across  the  Border  where  we  had 
tried  before — that  it  was  too  heavily  guarded;  he 
advised  me  to  work  northward  toward  the  great 
swamps.  While  these  were  dangerous,  full  of  quick- 
sands and  hard  to  get  through,  there  was,  he  said^ 
far  less  likelihood  of  trouble  with  the  guards  there.. 
This  chap  made  me  a  compass,  something  I  had  long, 
been  looking  for,  out  of  a  razor  blade.  Foolishly  I 
took  it  out  of  the  wooden  case,  in  which  he  had  placed 
the  needle,  to  improve  it  by  putting  it  into  a  more 
convenient  steel  one  and  thereby  spoiled  it. 

I  was  ashamed,  after  his  kindness,  to  let  him  know 
what  I  had  done  so  was  on  the  look-out  for  another 
compass.  I  ran  across  a  big  Russian  who  had  one 
but  wanted  sixty  marks  for  it.  Now,  I  had  only 
ten  marks,  and  though  I  found  another  fellow  who 
also  had  ten  and  who  was  willing  to  go  in  with  me, 
we  couldn't  tempt  the  Russian  with  the  twenty 
marks.  Usually  necessity  is  the  mother  of  Scheming 
as  well  as  of  Invention;  we  tried  another  plan. 
Knowing  that  the  Russian  was  more  or  less  suscepti- 
ble to  the  gambling  instinct,  we  had  the  Crown  and 
Anchor  board  made,  as  already  noted,  and  laid  for 
that  compass,  borrowing  the  necessary  dice  from 
another  gambler.  That  time  the  scheme  didn't 
work  for  we   ran   into   hard   luck.     Soon   after  we 


2o6  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

started,  a  man  came  along  who  bet  our  board  pretty 
heavy.  Luck  was  with  him  and  in  consequence  we 
were  cleaned  out. 

I  got  the  compass  that  night.  But  I  didn't  buy 
it.     My  conscience  didn't  trouble  me  at  all,  either. 

Some  time  previous  to  this  it  was  comparatively 
easy  to  get  hold  of  a  compass.  A  tin  of  bully  beef, 
or  almost  anything  to  eat,  handed  to  a  civilian  with 
whom  we  were  working  would  bring  along  almost 
anything  Hke  this  that  we  needed.  They  didn't 
want  us  to  escape,  but  they  were  very  hungry.  That 
makes  all  the  difference  in  the  world  to  one's  wa}'^  of 
looking  at  things.  After  a  while  the  guards  found 
out  what  was  happening  and  everything  of  the  kind 
in  the  stores  was  seized.  A  close  search  was  also 
made  among  the  prisoners  in  the  camps,  but  while 
there  were  quite  a  few  compasses  in  circulation 
very  few  were  brought  to  light. 

Strange  to  say,  most  of  the  compasses  and  maps 
had  somehow  or  other  got  into  the  hands  of  those 
men  who  had  no  intention  in  the  world  of  trying 
to  escape,  either  through  lack  of  the  requisite  degree 
of  initiative  or  by  reason  of  physical  inability.  How- 
ever, they  held  on  to  these  treasures  desperately  and 
made  a  most  decided  fuss  when — as  happened  oc- 
casionally— they  awoke  some  morning  to  discover 
that  the  treasure  was  missing.  Only  a  day  or  so 
after  almost  every  case  of  this  kind  some  other  pris- 
oner would  be  missing  and  we  would  know  that  he 
had  only  been  waiting  for  a  map  or  a  compass  to 
make  at  all  possible  his  chances  of  escape. 

I  had  been  in  Miinster  Camp  about  two  months 
and  my  hand  was  rapidly  getting  better  when  one 
morning  a  sentry  came  along  and  marched  me  over 
to  the  camp  office.  Here  the  Feldzvebel  read  a  few 
extracts  from  a  big  sheet  of  paper,  which  might  as 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MUNSTER  207 

well  have  been  in  Greek  so  far  as  I  was  concerned, 
and  when  he  felt,  I  suppose,  that  I  had  been  duly 
impressed  with  the  importance  of  the  occasion,  told 
me  in  English  that  this  was  my  sentence  for  my  last 
attempt  to  escape  and  that  I  would  have  to  do  seven 
days'  "black."  I  was  rather  agreeably  surprised 
at  the  lightness  of  the  sentence  but  they  evidently 
preferred  to  have  me  working  rather  than  in  jail, 
and  besides,  I  expected  a  quick  shift  when  I  came  out. 
As  it  happened,  again  my  conjecture  was  correct. 

So  a  dark  cell  with  a  ration  of  bread  and  water 
— I  think  I  did  have  one  bowl  of  soup  this  time — was 
my  portion  for  the  next  week.  In  the  cell  next  me 
was  lodged  a  young  Frenchman  and  soon  we  began 
talking  through  the  cracks.  He  was  awaiting  trial 
for  an  attempt  at  escape.  He  had  tried  to  get 
through  with  a  little  German  girl  but  without  luck. 
And  since  he  had  not  yet  been  sentenced,  and  also 
since  he  was  French — we  British  never  received  such 
favours — his  friends  were  allowed  to  bring  him  extra 
food  each  day.  Occasionally,  when  the  guards 
left  the  doors  open  so  that  we  could  sweep  out  the 
cells,  he  would  smuggle  some  of  his  food  in  to  me. 
That  was  perhaps  the  most  comfortable  week  I  ever 
spent  in  a  German  prison.  The  cells  here  were  not 
only  cleaner  than  those  at  K47  but,  while  there  was 
no  provision  for  any  comfort,  there  was  a  sort  of  a 
frame  bed,  made  of  two  planks  raised  about  two  feet 
from  the  floor,  with  strips  of  narrow  boards  nailed 
across  them  about  two  inches  apart.  The  first 
night  I  put  in  on  this  and  found  it  even  less  comfort- 
able than  the  floor,  but  the  next  day,  when  sweeping 
out  the  cell,  I  managed  to  get  hold  of  an  old  mattress 
from  a  pile  of  odds  and  ends  at  the  end  of  the  passage 
and  dragged  this  in.  I  kept  this  under  the  plank 
frame  till  the  examining  officer  had  made  his  rounds 


2o8  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

— they  looked  the  cell  and  us  over  every  day,  taking 
no  chances — and  then  used  to  throw  it  on  the  planks 
and  was  fairly  comfortable  till  the  next  day.  They 
discovered  this  mattress  the  day  before  my  sentence 
was  up  and  consequently  I  had  to  spend  the  last 
night  on  the  bare  planks  again. 

When  I  came  out  after  this  sentence  my  hand  was 
nearly  well  and  I  was  put  to  work  at  odd  jobs  around 
the  camp.  Sometimes  also  I  was  sent  with  a  party 
to  Miinster  station,  about  four  miles  distant,  for  a 
load  of  parcels  or  supplies,  or  to  haul  the  empty  tins 
from  the  parcel  room. 

Sometimes  while  on  work  like  this  we  would  meet 
a  party  of  Russian  prisoners  coming  in.  To  see 
human  beings  in  such  a  state  of  starvation  and  abject 
misery  as  these  poor  fellows  were  in  was  enough  to 
wring  one's  heart.  Sometimes  it  took  them  all  day 
to  make  the  four  miles  of  road  from  the  station  to 
the  camp  and  again,  some  of  them  were  so  far  gone 
that  it  was  out  of  the  question  for  them  to  walk 
and  the  guards  had  to  bring  wagons  from  the  camp 
to  haul  them  in.  Sometimes  I  had  occasion  to  stay 
in  the  Krankenstiihe  in  the  morning  when  these  poor 
fellows  were  stripped  for  the  doctor's  examination 
and  had  I  not  been  hardened  to  such  horrors  the 
sight  would  have  made  me  sick.  There  seemed  to 
be  no  flesh  at  all  on  their  bodies  and  the  skin  hung 
over  the  bones  in  horrible  yellow  wrinkles.  They 
had  been  trying  to  live  on  refuse  and  rotten  soup 
of  which,  to  get  enough  real  food  matter  to  keep 
themselves  alive,  they  had  gorged  when  it  was  avail- 
able. In  consequence,  their  stomachs  protruded 
like  huge  sacks.  Their  bodies  were  covered  with 
scars  and  bruises,  the  result  of  kicks  and  beatings 
at  the  hands  of  the  guards.  When  no  manner  of 
punishment  could  force  them  to  labour  any  longer 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MtJNSTER  209 

they  were  turned  back  to  headquarters.  Some  of 
them  were  so  far  gone  that  they  only  lasted  a  few 
days  after  reaching  Miinster.  Others  commenced 
to  pick  up  at  once.  They  told  us  that  in  some  of  the 
working  parties  with  which  they  had  been  their 
friends  were  dying  at  the  rate  of  seven  or  eight  a  day. 

These  poor  fellows  were  allowed  to  mix  with  the 
British  prisoners  and,  since  our  parcels  were  coming 
in  fairly  regularly  by  this  time,  and  food  was  more 
plentiful,  we  gave  them  our  German  rations  and 
anything  else  we  could  spare.  In  return  they  washed 
our  dishes  and  cleaned  up  for  us  generally,  and  soon 
every  British  prisoner  had  his  batman,  for  these 
fellows  did  for  us  just  about  what  the  officer's  ser- 
vant does  in  the  army.  A  '*  swell  dish  "  for  a  prisoner 
of  war,  wasn't  it  ? 

In  a  way  we  liked  these  Russians.  While  they 
were  exceedingly  ignorant  they  were  very  kind- 
hearted  fellows  and  would  do  anything  for  one.  As 
a  matter  of  fact,  they  were  a  good  deal  like  children, 
easily  driven,  and  were  like  putty  in  the  hands  of 
the  German  guards.  So  soon  as  they  recovered 
sufficiently  to  be  useful  out  they  went  again.  We 
never  knew  any  to  return  the  second  time.  *'Get 
ever>-thing  possible  out  of  them"  was  the  German 
policy.  And  in  consequence  they  were  worked  until 
they  died.  This  is  proven  by  the  well-filled  grave- 
yards all  over  Germany  which  will  be  an  undeniable 
testimony  to  the  treatment  of  starvation  and  bru- 
tahty  that  was  their  lot. 

Even  worse  suffering  was  endured  by  the  French 
and  Belgians  who  were  forcibly  brought  back  from 
occupied  territory.  In  February,  1917,  about  eight 
hundred  of  these  unfortunates,  slaves  in  every  sense 
of  the  term,  were  brought  into  Block  3  of  the  camp. 
They  were  not  allowed  to  mix  with  the  other  prisoners 


2IO  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

and  of  course  had  no  parcels  or  supplies  coming  to 
them;  in  consequence,  they  were  dying  from  disease 
and  starvation  like  animals.  We  heard  on  pretty  good 
authority  that  an  average  of  fifteen  to  twenty  were 
dying  daily.  One  day  we  were  told  that  these 
poor  fellows  were  to  be  brought  into  our  block  for  a 
bath  so  we  gathered  round  the  bath  house  with  all 
the  food  we  could  spare.  When  the  Germans  saw 
what  was  going  on  they  placed  a  guard  with  fixed 
bayonets  around  the  bath  house  and  gave  orders  to 
shoot  any  one  who  attempted  to  hand  over  any  food. 

When  these  French  and  Belgians  were  herded  in 
and  saw  the  food  in  our  hands  they  broke  the  win- 
dows in  the  bath  house,  cutting  their  hands  and 
bodies  and  leaning  out,  begged  and  cried  out  most 
piteously  for  the  food  we  were  so  anxious  to  give 
them.  The  guards — inhuman  wretches! — laughed 
and  sneered  at  this  and  one  of  them  went  from  win- 
dow to  window  and  beat  the  poor  fellows  back  with 
the  butt  of  his  rifle. 

When  they  came  out  of  the  hot  bath  they  were  so 
weak  that  many  collapsed  in  the  yard.  The  guards 
pounced  on  these  helpless  ones,  kicking  and  cursing 
them;  and,  because  their  very  soul  seemed  to  be 
broken  by  the  cruelty  and  horror  of  it  all,  the  poor 
wretches  grovelled  in  the  mud,  cowering  and  whining. 
The  whole  spirit  of  manhood,  apparently,  had  been 
beaten  out  of  them. 

May  God  punish  us  adequately  if  we  ever  forget 
the  cruelty,  beastiahty,  unfaithfulness,  and  murder- 
ing spirit  of  this  nation  which  has  sent  thousands 
of  our  men  and  women  to  the  bottom  of  the  sea  and 
gloated  over  it,  which  has  forgotten  all  the  instincts 
of  decency  and  humanity,  and  has  murdered,  raped, 
mutilated,  enslaved,  and  committed  every  other 
crime  in  the  category.     When  the  time  comes  they 


TRANSFERRED  TO  MUNSTER  211 

will  try  to  whitewash  themselves,  and  blame  their 
leader,  who,  guilty  though  he  may  be,  could  never 
have  provided  for  such  a  horrible  condition  of  affairs 
had  not  the  German  people  themselves  been  united 
in  a  mad  lust  for  blood,  conquest,  and  the  ultimate 
subjection  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER  XV 
Various  Incidents  in  Camp  and  Out 

Other  new  and  rather  interesting  experiences 
came  my  way  when  with  a  working  party  I  spent 
a  week  at  Hilltrup,  a  little  town  about  seven  kilo- 
metres from  Miinster,  where  a  large  part  of  the 
food  supply  for  several  of  the  camps  was  prepared. 
We  were  not  idle  that  week  for,  besides  what  we 
were  forced  to  do  in  the  factory,  we  had  to  march 
there  and  back  morning  and  night. 

At  the  factory  huge  quantities  of  vegetables — po- 
tatoes, carrots,  turnips,  beets,  and  others — were  piled 
all  round.  These,  just  as  they  were  and  without 
sorting,  were  put  through  a  big  chopper  and  came 
out  in  strips.  It  made  no  difference  whether  or  not 
the  vegetables  were  sound.  Rotten  and  sound — 
roots,  worms,  peelings,  dirt — all  went  through  just 
the  same.  This  mess  was  then  shovelled  into  vats 
and  dried  until  it  was  shrivelled  up  like  shavings. 
Then,  when  wanted,  it  was  shovelled  into  sacks  and 
shipped  to  the  various  kommandos.  From  this  the 
ever-appearing  soup  was  made. 

The  flour  also  was  made  of  the  same  dried-vege- 
table mixture — though  this  was  ground  up  in  a  little 
mill  near  Hilltrup — and  just  enough  wheat  or  rye 
added  to  make  the  other  materials  hold  together. 
While  the  flour  was  dark  it  resembled  our  whole- 
wheat flour  a  good  deal.  And  it  stuck  all  right. 
Since  no  yeast  was  added  the  bread  would  not  rise 

212 


Oiricial  Communication 

from  H.  B.  M.  Consul  General  for  the  Netherlands. 

June  4th.  1917. 

Rumours  have  reached  this  Consulate  General  on  several  occasions  as  to 
complaints  made  by  German  prisoners  of  war  in  England  on  the  subject  of  the 
daily  scale  of  rations  allowed  to  them  These  complaints  seem  to  be  absolutely 
unjustifiable  as  will  be  seen  from  the  oJRcial  scale  for  such  rations  which  was 
authorized  by  the  Army  Council  on  tht  14th  May.  This  daily  scale  is  as  follows: 

Bread 13  oa. 

Meat 6     „        5  days  a  week 

Salt-cured  Herrings ...    10     n       2       r.      »       » 

Tea '/s     „. 

oi 

Coffee ^h     n 

Sugar. 1     ™ 

Salt V2     , 

Swedes  or  Turnips    .     .      .     2     „ 
Split  Peas  or  Beans  .     .     .     2     „ 

Rice 4     „        This   ration   may  be  reduced  to  3  ozs. 

and  in  lieu  of  the  remaining  1    oz.    the 
following    substitutes    may    be    drawn  s 

(a)  Maize  Meal  1  oz. 

or 

(b)  Split  Peas  or  Beans  1  oz. 

Margarine 1  ozl 

Oatmeal 2  ozs.     If  full  ration  is  not  obtainable  an  equal 

quantity  of  rice  may  be  issued  in  lieu.. 

Jam 1  oz. 

Cheese ,      2  oza, 

Pepper Vri  oz. 

Maize  Meal 1' '2  ozs. 

When    men    are  not  employed  on  work,  the  following  deductions    will    b« 
made    unless    the  medical  officer  advises  to  the  contrary  in  any  particular  caset' 

Bread 4     ozs 

Cheese  1        » 

Maize  Meal      ....     1':     „ 


INCIDENTS  IN  CAMP  AND  OUT  213 

and  was  heavy  as  well  as  being  black  and  bitter.  If 
one  of  us  loaded  up  on  it  he  was  bound  to  be  unhappy 
for  a  good  while.  And,  besides  the  usual  digestive 
difficulties,  we  used  to  suffer  a  good  deal  from  heart- 
burn when  we  had  to  eat  the  stuff". 

One  morning,  on  the  march  down  to  Hilltrup,  one 
of  my  friends  pointed  out  the  spot,  about  halfway 
from  the  camp,  where  Jack  Hughes  had  been  shot. 
At  this  point  a  heavy  bit  of  bush  jutted  out  from  the 
side  of  a  big  canal  to  within  about  two  hundred  yards 
of  the  road.  When  the  party  had  come  opposite 
this,  though  they  were  surrounded  with  guards, 
Hughes  and  Bombardier  Harkum,  of  the  Royal  Field 
Artillery,  had  broken  away  and  started  to  run  across 
the  open  field  to  gain  the  shelter  of  the  woods.  Be- 
fore Jack  was  ten  yards  away  the  guard  nearest  him 
dropped  the  barrel  of  his  rifle  and  fired  point  blank 
at  his  back  and  the  big  soft-nosed  bullet  tore  a  hole 
clean  through  him.  He  called  out  to  Harkum:  "I'm 
done,"  and  toppled  over.  When  his  comrades 
went  to  pick  him  up  they  found  him  dead.  Harkum 
did  succeed  in  getting  away  but  was  brought  back  to 
camp  again  after  two  days'  absence. 

While  at  Hilltrup  we  had  a  chance  occasionally  to 
study  discipline  as  it  obtained  in  the  German  army. 
One  day,  for  instance,  we  saw  an  officer  walking  off 
a  bridge  which  spanned  the  canal  just  near  the  fac- 
tory when  a  big  army  transport,  driven  by  a  soldier, 
came  on.  The  soldier  was  watching  his  team  and 
appeared  not  to  see  the  officer.  The  latter  looked  at 
the  private  for  a  moment,  then  walked  over  to  the 
wagon,  drawing  his  sword  as  he  went,  and  struck 
that  chap  across  the  cheek  with  the  flat  of  his  sword 
— so  hard  that  he  knocked  him  off  the  seat.  The 
man  jumped  up  and  stood  at  Attention  without 
showing  any  resentment  while  the  officer  stormed 


214  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST     • 

at  him  at  the  top  of  his  voice.  Then,  after  taking  the 
driver's  name  and  number,  he  let  him  go. 

My  last  day  at  Hilltrup  was  one  to  be  remembered. 
One  morning,  just  as  we  were  falling  in  for  the  morn- 
ing march  down  to  the  factory,  a  German  corporal 
came  along  and  warned  three  of  us  to  get  ready, 
when  we  came  home  that  night,  to  go  back  the  fol- 
lowing morning  to  K47,  the  "Black  Hole."  It  ap- 
peared that  in  the  meantime  they  had  in  some  way 
discovered  that  most  of  the  wounds  and  burns  had 
been  entirely  self-inflicted.  The  origin  of  "The 
Plague"  had  also  been  discovered  and  the  Germans, 
naturally,  were  furious.  We  could  well  imagine 
how  we  should  be  treated  in  the  light  of  all  this  when 
they  got  us  back  again. 

That  day  ten  of  us  were  put  to  work  cleaning  the 
scale  out  of  a  big  boiler  in  the  engine  house.  There 
were  no  guards  in  the  building  but  they  were  sta- 
tioned around  it.  I  spent  most  of  the  day  trying  to 
cut  a  Maple  Leaf  in  a  little  block  of  steel,  but  when 
quitting  time  came  around,  with  another  chap,  a 
little  English  prisoner  from  Durham,  I  really  got 
busy.  Starting  in  on  the  big  engine  over  the  boilers 
we  smashed  everything  breakable  about  it:  grease 
and  oil  cups,  steam  gauges,  water  glass,  pumps,  all 
the  brass  connections,  and  a  double  row  of  rivets 
round  the  boiler  went  the  same  way — down  a  hole 
into  the  canal.  We  had  just  nicely  completed  the 
job  when  the  guards  came  to  take  us  home.  As 
they  did  not  notice  anything  wrong,  we  marched  off 
as  usual. 

Early  next  morning  seven  of  the  ten  left  for  a 
working  party  down  the  Rhine  and  the  other  three — 
the  Durham  chap  who  had  helped  me  mess  up  the 
engine,  another  chap,  and  myself — had  our  kits 
packed  ready  for  our  return  to  the  "Black  Hole." 


INCIDENTS  IN  CAMP  AND  OUT  215 

We  knew  the  damage  would  soon  be  discovered  so 
we  got  together  and  talked  it  over.  The  fellow  who 
had  had  no  hand  in  it  insisted  in  standing  by  us, 
saying  that  he  would  as  soon  be  sent  to  the  peniten- 
tiary as  go  to  work  again.  So  we  made  up  a  simple 
little  story  about  our  day's  work  in  the  factory  and 
agreed  to  stick  to  this  to  the  minutest  particular. 
Of  course  no  one  was  to  know  anything  about  the 
damaged  engine  and  boiler. 

About  ten  o'clock  the  guards  came  along  and 
hustled  the  three  of  us  off  to  jail,  being  careful  to  place 
us  in  separate  cells.  Then,  in  turn,  we  were  taken 
before  a  sort  of  board  made  up  of  two  or  three  offi- 
cers and  two  of  the  bosses  from  the  Hilltrup  plant. 
We  had  to  make  a  written  statement  of  all  we  had 
seen  and  done  the  day*  before.  They  raged  and 
swore  at  us — tried  to  bully  each  one  into  saying  he 
had  done  the  damage;  but  all  three  stuck  to  the 
story,  as  we  had  agreed  to  do,  and  they  got  no  satis- 
faction. We  were  hustled  into  the  black  cells  again 
and  I  endured  another  week  on  bread  and  water, 
being  brought  out  every  day  to  write  out  another 
statement.  Each  day's  statement  was  compared 
with  the  previous  ones  and  each  time  they  tried  to 
make  us  add  or  retract  something.  While  we  were 
only  a  week  in  the  cells,  we  were  held  in  Miinster 
Camp,  awaiting  our  trial,  for  nearly  two  months, 
during  which  period  they  moved  heaven  and  earth 
to  find  a  morsel  of  evidence  on  which  to  convict  us. 
Two  years  with  hard  labour  would  have  been  the 
minimum  sentence;  how  much  more  than  that,  had 
they  discovered  any  evidence,  it  is  hard  to  con- 
jecture. 

In  a  way  this  played  right  into  our  hands;  to 
stay  in  Miinster  Camp  was  just  what  we  wanted. 
We  had  nothing  to  do  but  to  draw  our  parcels,  and 


2i6  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

life  comparatively  was  so  easy  that  I  became  aim  st. 
fat.  I  borrowed  a  Highlander's  kilt  and  jacket  from 
one  of  the  famous  old  42d  (The  Black  Watch)  and 
had  my  picture  taken.  My  Belgian  corporal  friend 
was  so  pleased  with  my  get-up  in  this  uniform  that 
he  walked  around  the  camp  with  me  all  day  and 
wanted  to  have  his  photograph  taken  with  me. 
This,  however,  the  Germans  would  not  allow. 

As  the  days  went  by  I  kept  on  looking  for  a  possible 
avenue  of  escape.  I  walked  round  and  round  the 
camp,  watching  every  move  of  the  guards  and  keep- 
ing my  eyes  always  on  the  alert  for  any  new  oppor- 
tunity; but  nothing  seemed  to  oflPer.  By  one  or  an- 
other, eveiy  possible  plan  seemed  to  have  been  tried — 
— some  successfully,  the  majority  otherwise — but  I 
knew  of  no  plan  that  had  ever  been  tried  successfully 
the  second  time.  While  quite  a  num.ber  of  men  had 
endeavoured  to  get  out  in  one  way  and  another,  a 
high  percentage  of  these  had  been  shot  in  the  at- 
tempt; and  of  those  who  did  escape  from  the  camp 
nearly  all  were  caught  before  they  reached  the 
Border. 

One  party  dug  a  tunnel  and  some  of  their  number 
escaped,  but  only  two  of  these  got  clear  out  of  the 
country.  Some  time  later  a  party  of  French  prison- 
ers dug  another  tunnel  but  were  unlucky  enough  to 
underestimate  the  distance,  the  tunnel  opening  up 
just  betv/een  the  inner  barbed-wire  fence  and  the 
electrically  charged  outer  one.  The  first  man 
emerged  before  he  discovered  the  mistake  and  was 
trapped  immediately;  the  guard,  who  had  probably 
heard  him,  was  right  on  the  spot  and  shot  him — as 
an  example  to  the  others. 

Again,  a  big  Englishman  had  made  himself  a  Ger- 
man uniform  out  of  two  faded  French  great  coats 
which  were  nearly  the  colour  of  the  German  cloth. 


I 


The  tailor  shop  in  Miinster  Camp 


Housecleaning  day  at  Miinster  Camp 


INCIDENTS  IN  CAMP  AND  OUT         217 

A  cap  was  made  from  the  black  paper  in  which  his 
parcels  had  been  wrapped,  and  a  set  of  imitation 
German  equipment  from  the  same  material.  A 
bayonet  and  scabbard  (made  from  black  pasteboard) 
and  an  iron  cross  (from  a  sardine  tin)  completed  the 
outfit.  Decorated  with  the  insignia  of  a  Feldzvehelt 
he  marched  past  all  the  guards  and  out  the  main  gate, 
as  bold  as  brass,  while  the  guard  sprang  smartly 
to  Attention.  He  was  caught  a  little  later,  within 
seven  miles  of  the  camp. 

Two  others  hid  themselves  away  in  garbage  bar- 
rels and  were  hauled  outside  by  the  camp  fatigue 
who  were  supposed  to  leave  the  barrels  behind  a 
building  to  be  emptied  later.  On  the  way  down  the 
road,  however,  the  party  met  a  German  teamster 
stuck  in  a  hole  with  a  load  of  sewer  pipe  and  the 
guard  made  the  fatigue  party  give  him  a  lift.  The 
wagon  with  the  barrels  was  left  in  the  middle  of  the 
road.  While  the  party  was  away  a  German  staff 
officer  came  along  in  his  car,  was  annoyed  to  find  the 
road  blocked,  and  sent  his  orderly  to  see  what  was 
in  the  barrels.  Naturally  he  was  surprised  when  two 
"Englanders"  were  uncovered  and  a  merry  old  row 
followed. 

One  other  chap  had  a  wonderful  opportunity 
which  he  was  foolish  enough  not  to  take  advantage  of. 
One  day  in  spring  a  party  was  sent  down  to  Miinster 
to  unload  some  barges.  They  were  held  later  than 
anticipated  and  the  guards,  anxious  to  get  back  to 
the  camp,  were  careless  in  their  counting.  One 
prisoner  had  crawled  in  under  a  pile  of  empty  sacks 
and  had  gone  to  sleep.  When  he  woke  up  and  found 
no  one  around  he  came  dutifully  back  to  camp  by 
himself.  I  would  have  given  anything  I  possessed 
for  a  chance  like  that. 

One  day  a  high  dignitary,  heralded  as  an  ambas- 


2i8  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

sador  though  I  thought  he  was  a  German  officer, 
came  into  the  camp  to  see  the  Russians,  Even 
then  there  was  talk  of  peace  with  Russia  and  this 
visit  was  supposed  to  have  something  to  do  with  it. 
We  were  not  very  much  interested  but  that  visit  led 
to  the  telling  of  a  story  by  one  of  the  boys  which 
illustrates  pretty  forcibly  the  German  methods 
during  these  ambassadorial  visitations.  This  yarn 
concerned  the  visit  of  an  ambassador  to  the  three 
camps  around  Miinster,  in  the  summer  of  191 5,  and 
was  vouched  for  as  being  authentic. 

Camp  No.  I  was  visited  first.  Here  the  prisoners 
were  in  a  terrible  state  of  filth  and  starvation  but  in 
preparation  for  the  official's  inspection  two  huge 
carcasses  of  beef  were  laid  out  in  the  shop  behind  the 
kitchens.  The  officers  told  the  visitor  that  the 
prisoners  had  been  in  a  starving  condition  when  thev 
were  captured  but  that  they  were  feeding  them  up  on 
beef  like  that  and  expected  to  save  most  of  their 
lives.  When  the  ambassador  left  to  visit  Camp  No. 
3,  the  beef  was  dumped  onto  a  motor  truck  and  taken 
over  there  w^here  it  was  nicely  laid  out  and  a  similar 
stor\'  told.  The  same  proceeding  followed  for  Camp 
No.  2.  And  when  the  inspection  was  over  the  beef 
was  taken  out  of  the  camps  entirely  and  used  by  the 
German  garrison  in  Miinster. 

While  I  was  in  Diilmen  the  Germans  had  been 
working  with  Sir  Roger  Casement  and  tr\'ing  to  get 
his  "Irish  Brigade"  ready  for  service.  They  went 
through  every  camp  picking  out  all  who  were  or  who 
seemed  to  be  Irish.  These  men  were  all  sent  down 
to  a  camp  in  Central  Germany  where  they  were  put 
through  all  kinds  of  torture  to  make  them  consent  to 
join  the  "Irish  Brigade."  Some  were  tied  up  to 
stakes  till  they  died.  Many  succumbed  to  the  star- 
vation methods  combined  with  the  torture,  but  very 


INCIDENTS  IN  CAMP  AND  OUT         219 

few  could  be  forced  to  give  in,  and  I  believe  even  these 
had  no  intention  of  taking  any  part  in  the  Germans' 
dastardly  plans.  In  our  stories  around  the  fire  at 
the  camps  we  heard  the  particulars  of  this  ''Irish 
Brigade'*  matter  and  also  of  the  horrors  of  the 
Wittenburg  Camp  where  plague-stricken  prisoners 
were  left  to  die  like  rats  in  a  trap.  Of  all  the  German 
crimes  this  one  of  Wittenburg  seems  to  be  the  worst 
— certainly  one  of  the  blackest  that  ever  disgraced 
humanity. 

A  few  of  the  prisoners  who  let  their  minds  dwell 
on  this  sort  of  thing  and  on  their  own  misfortunes, 
could  not  be  roused  out  of  their  despondency,  grad- 
ually lost  their  reason,  and  were  removed  to  a  little 
asylum  located  just  outside  the  camp.  There  were 
said  to  be  about  twenty  inmates  at  this  time  but  very 
few  of  them  were  British.  However,  I  did  see  two 
fellows  taken  there — a  terrible  sight  since  every- 
thing seemed  so  hopeless.  If  we  had  not  resolved 
to  be  everlastingly  cheerful;  had  we  not  kept  one 
another  out  of  the  dumps,  a  lot  more  of  us  would 
have  gone  the  same  way. 

Others  who  had  it  worse  than  we  had  were  some 
Canadian  boys  we  heard  from  through  a  Belgian 
who  had  been  in  the  penitentiary  with  them  but  had 
finished  his  time.  Besides  other  troubles  these  poor 
fellows,  who  had  been  committed  for  a  term  of  some 
years,  were  not  allowed  any  of  the  meat  or  tinned 
goods  coming  in  their  parcels.  They  sent  a  message 
to  the  parcel  stafi^  in  the  camp  to  take  all  this  stuff  out 
before  their  parcels  were  forwarded  so  that  their 
guards  would  not  benefit  from  it. 

One  feature  that  helped  a  little  to  pass  the  time 
was  the  reading  of  a  couple  of  small  newspapers  set 
up  and  printed  in  the  camp  by  the  prisoners.  One 
of  these,  the  Church  Times,  was  edited  by  Private 


220  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

Champion,  an  Englishman  who  also  conducted  a  re- 
ligious service  for  the  British  prisoners  every  Sunday 
morning. 

Gradually  the  winter  passed  and  the  spring  came 
in  warm  and  bright.  In  May  we  moved  our  beds 
out  in  the  sun  every  day  and  lay  about  the  camp 
until  a  sudden  summons  to  some  to  be  ready  for  a 
working  party  would  set  them  hustling  to  get  their 
belongings  together  and  they  would  shortly  be  gone 
again. 

On  the  22d  I  remember  a  party  of  prisoners, 
twenty  of  them,  arrived  from  the  front  and  these 
were  augmented  next  day  by  twenty-two  others. 
These  were  made  up  of  about  fifteen  Australians, 
two  Canadians,  and  representatives  from  different 
British  regiments.  Some  of  them  had  been  through 
some  terrible  hardships.  One,  for  instance,  had 
been  a  prisoner  since  August,  1914,  and  had  been 
kept  working  behind  the  German  lines.  His  body 
was  covered  with  marks  and  scars,  the  results  ot 
abuse,  and  he  was  so  emaciated  that  his  bones  seemed 
scarcely  able  to  hold  together.  Some  had  been  cap- 
tured at  Loos  in  September  of  191 5  and  others 
at  the  Somme  in  1916.  They  had  never  been  re- 
ported as  prisoners  because  it  was  pretty  nearly 
certain  they  would  die;  if  they  had  been  reported 
the  Germans  would  have  had  to  account  for  them 
after  the  war,  so  no  notice  had  been  sent  regarding 
them  until  they  were  sent  back  to  the  camps. 

When  the  first  party  arrived  they  were  put  in  a 
separate  block  but  a  little  later  were  brought  to 
our  bath  house  for  a  bath.  Our  parcels  had  been 
held  up  for  a  while  so  we  had  very  little  food,  but 
everybody  shared  up  with  them  and  we  were  able 
to  provide  a  good  hot  meal  in  the  bath  house  and 
give  each  a  small  box  of  food  to  take  away  w^ith  him. 


INCIDENTS  IN  CAMP  AND  OUT         221 

I  actually  saw  one  of  the  boys  take  off  his  boots  and 
socks  and  give  them  to  a  ragged  and  shoeless  "Anzac." 

We  were  not  allowed  to  talk  to  the  second  party 
because  a  few  of  them  had  been  captured  only  a  few 
days  before  and  had  good  news  to  tell  of  the  fighting 
at  Bapaume  and  Peronne.  We  managed  to  send 
them  some  food,  however,  and  also  to  get  this  good 
news. 

Some  time  before  I  had  been  summoned  to  the 
"Court  of  Justice"  and  told  that  the  complaint 
I  had  laid  against  the  guards  at  K47  had  been  found 
to  be  false.  A  warning  was  given  at  the  same  time 
of  the  serious  punishment  that  would  be  inflicted 
if  ever  I  dared  to  make  another  such  false  accusation. 

The  day  after  these  prisoners  arrived  I  was  again 
taken,  with  the  two  other  chaps  who  had  been 
accused  of  the  trouble  at  Hilltrup,  before  the  "Court 
of  Justice.'*  This  time  a  bleary-eyed  old  officer 
told  us  that  they  had  gone  very  carefully  into  our 
case  but  knew  that,  although  they  knew  we  were 
guilty,  they  could  find  no  evidence  against  us. 
This  notwithstanding,  we  were  ordered  to  leave  that 
same  day  to  return  to  the  "  Black  Hole." 

Six  Canadians  were  to  go  back  in  the  party  and  we 
were  all  game  for  an  attempt  to  escape,  planning  to 
put  the  guards  "out  of  mess"  and  to  get  away  while 
marching  up  from  Sin  Sin  station  that  night.  When 
we  arrived  at  Sin  Sin  the  plan  fell  through  for  there 
a  large  party  of  Russians,  with  a  lot  of  extra  guards, 
joined  ours  and  rendered  any  such  attempt  out  of 
the  question. 

Arriving  in  K47  the  boys  all  gathered  around  and 
we  compared  experiences.  I  soon  learned  that 
three  of  my  chums — Blacklock,  O'Brien,  and  Sammy 
Woods — were  in  the  jail,  as  punishment  for  trying 
to  escape.     They  had  broken  out  of  the  camp  all 


222  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

right  but  had  been  caught  near  the  Border.  I  was 
shortly  taken  to  the  office  by  the  guards  who  made  a 
fuss  because  I  had  taken  off  most  of  the  marks  from 
my  clothing.  These  were  all  carefully  added  again 
before  they  let  me  away.  Then  I  borrowed  a  book 
and  went  out  and  sat  with  my  back  to  the  jail  wall, 
pretending  to  be  reading,  but  all  the  time  calling 
softly  to  O'Brien  who  I  knew  to  be  in  the  cell  near  by. 
Pretty  soon  he  heard  me,  and,  taking  a  bit  of  paper 
out  of  a  crack  he  had  managed  to  make  between 
two  bricks,  we  had  a  long  talk.  He  told  me  how 
Wallie  Nicholson  and  Slim  Evans  had  made  an  at- 
tempt to  escape  but  had  been  caught  and  brought 
back,  had  finished  their  term  in  the  cells,  and  were 
at  work  again.  I  managed  to  smuggle  some  food 
in  to  the  three  fellows  that  night  but  next  morning 
they  came  out  again. 

In  the  meantime,  Wallie  came  back  from  work 
and  we  were  as  tickled  as  two  schoolboys  to  see 
each  other  again.  He  was  looking  pretty  thin 
and  worn  while  I  was  almost  fat  from  my  easy  life 
in  Miinster. 

Next  day  I  was  called  into  the  office  again,  this 
time  to  receive  a  mark  and  a  half  of  pay  which  had 
been  due  me  when  I  left  the  camp.  They  were  al- 
ways very  particular  to  pay  us — at  first  in  regular 
German  coinage;  later,  in  money  made  in  each  camp 
from  squares  of  cardboard,  or  small  tin  checks. 
This  was  handed  out  on  Friday  afternoon,  when  we 
sometimes  had  to  stand  for  hours  while  the  miserable 
snipe  who  paid  us  would  dawdle  about,  sometimes 
breaking  off  to  go  for  a  smoke  in  the  yard.  If  we 
did  not  go  for  our  pay  in  the  regular  way  we  were 
treated  to  the  usual  abuse  awarded  an  offender  and 
finally  taken  before  the  commander. 

"If  you  don't  come  and  get  your  pay,"  he  would 


INCIDENTS  IN  CAMP  AND  OUT         223 

say  (banging  his  fist  on  the  desk),  "you  become  a 
s!ave;  and  we  won't  have  that  in  DeutschlandJ" 

So  we  had  to  take  it,  whether  we  hked  it  or  not. 

They  tried  a  good  many  schemes,  though,  to  get 
the  money  back  from  us.  Sometimes  searches  of 
the  camp  were  made  and  the  money  seized.  We 
did  try  to  hang  on  to  all  the  real  money  we  could  get, 
for  we  could  see  the  possibility  of  using  it  in  various 
ways.  One  time  the  officials  asked  for  a  subscription 
of  three  hundred  marks  to  be  spent  on  the  graves  of 
McQuarrie,  who  had  been  murdered  by  a  Steiger,  and 
Flannigan,  alleged  to  have  been  accidentally  killed 
in  the  mine.  The  money  was  quickly  forthcoming. 
Part  of  it  was,  apparently,  spent  on  the  graves, 
but  soon  another  amount  was  asked  for,  for  the  same 
purpose.  This,  too,  was  raised  but  nothing  was  done 
so  when  they  came  for  a  third  donation  we  told  them 
that  we  would  fix  the  graves  up  ourselves,  after  the 
war. 

Another  time  the  commandant  sent  for  two  or 
three  of  the  British  prisoners  and  told  them  we  could 
have  a  band  if  we  would  collect  a  thousand  francs 
to  buy  the  instruments.  We  got  the  money  to- 
gether but  insisted  that  one  of  our  own  number 
should  buy  the  instruments.  He  was  sent  to  Reck- 
Hnghausen,  about  seven  miles  away,  and  brought 
back  the  instruments.  But  an  order  was  issued 
next  day  that  no  music  was  to  be  allowed  in  the  camp; 
the  instruments  were  never  used! 


CHAPTER  XVI 
Out  of  the  "Black  Hole's"  Clutches 

When  I  returned  to  K47  the  Kokerie  was  over- 
stocked with  workers  and  so  I  was  put  at  odd  jobs 
around  the  camp  until  they  could  start  me  in  again 
where  I  had  left  off  four  months  before.  The  Ger- 
mans never  forget  a  grudge  and  those  guards  showed 
me  every  day  that  they  hated  me  just  as  bitterly  as 
they  had  done  previously. 

Always  on  the  qui  vive  for  an  opportunity  to  get 
away  I  kept  my  eyes  open  while  at  this  irregular 
work  and  one  day  thought  I  saw  how  another  effort 
might  be  made.  I  noticed  one  of  the  girls  who 
worked  in  the  canteen  open  a  httle  door  in  what 
appeared  to  be  the  outside  wall  of  the  EngHsh 
barracks  and  take  a  couple  of  brooms  out  of  a  Httle 
closet  or  pantry  there.  This  door  opened  opposite 
the  back  gate  of  the  camp  but  we  were  shut  off  from 
that  side  by  a  sixteen-foot  barbed-wire  fence,  and  the 
guards. 

When  I  came  in  that  night  I  examined  the  barrack 
and  saw  that  the  little  room  jutted  about  four  feet 
into  the  washroom.  Hence  my  plan — to  cut  a 
hole  through  the  wall  into  the  closet,  get  out  through 
the  door,  and  thence  out  by  the  camp  gate.  I  chose 
Howitt,  since  escaped  otherwise,  as  a  partner,  and 
when  the  gang  came  up,  at  about  nine  o'clock,  and 
made  quite  a  racket  with  their  supper  we  began 
operations.     Working    away   with    a   knife,    in   the 

224 


OUT  OF  THE  "BLACK  HOLE"  225 

intervals  when  the  guard  was  at  the  other  end  of 
his  beat,  I  managed  to  get  six  bricks  loosened  in 
the  wall,  enough  to  make  a  passage.  So  far  so 
good.  We  planned  to  remove  them  at  one  o'clock 
that  night,  crawl  into  the  cupboard,  and  then,  sud- 
denly bursting  open  the  door,  grab  a  pail  of  red-hot 
coals  (which  the  girls  placed  outside  to  help  the 
guard  keep  warm),  and  with  this  as  a  surprise,  put 
him  "out  of  mess"  and  get  a  free  passage  through  the 
gate.     The  plan  was  good,  but 

At  one  o'clock  we  were  up,  with  everything  in 
readiness.  Stealthily  I  got  the  bricks  out  and  was 
just  ready  to  crawl  through  when  the  door  of  the 
closet  opened  a  tiny  crack  and  then  closed  again. 
Then  we  heard  a  faint  rustle  of  excitement  among 
the  girls  in  the  canteen.  Loud  voices  in  the  guard 
house  became  hushed  and  died  away  completely. 
The  guard  had  heard  us  and  was  zvaiting  for  us  ! 
After  an  uncanny  stillness  settled  down  over  the 
camp  I  rose  from  my  knees  in  front  of  the  hole  and 
drew  myself  noiselessly  up  by  the  window.  Peering 
through  a  scratch  in  the  painted  glass  I  could  see  the 
tall  angular  figure  of  the  guard  looming  up  in  the 
darkness  like  a  horrible  bronze  statue,  with  his 
long  rifle  levelled  at  the  opening  from  which  he 
expected  to  see  an  "Englander"  emerge  and  no  doubt 
silently  revelling  over  the  mess  his  Dum-dum  bullets 
would  make  when  he  did  appear. 

Quietly  I  stole  away  from  the  window  and  we  hid 
our  map,  compass,  and  flashlight,  which  had  been 
in  readiness  for  the  hoped-for  journey,  and  went 
back  to  bed.  Half  an  hour  later  the  guards  rushed 
in  and  kicked  up  a  great  row  but  couldn't  find  out 
who  had  made  the  hole. 

The  next  night  I  was  put  on  Kokerie  again,  on 
the  sam.e  shift  with  Jack  O'Brien,  who  had  just  come 


226  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

out  of  jail.  They  put  us  together  so  as  to  be  able  to 
give  us  special  attention,  and  since  this  brought  us 
more  scrutiny  than  we  liked  we  decided  that  we 
must  get  into  hospital.  We  tossed  a  coin  to  see  who 
was  to  try  first. 

O'Brien  won,  or  rather  lost,  the  toss  and  next 
morning  when  we  were  pushing  railway  cars  up  to 
the  Kokerie  he  shut  his  eyes  and  stuck  his  hand  in 
between  two  cars  as  they  bumped.  Three  of 
his  fingers  were  smashed.  I  didn't  like  the  idea  of 
repeating  that  dose,  so  racked  my  brains  for  some- 
thing diflFerent. 

Going  to  bed  that  night,  I  wet  a  handkerchief, 
tied  it  round  my  left  arm  close  to  the  shoulder,  and 
twisted  it  up  with  a  stick  till  all  circulation  was 
stopped.  In  the  morning  my  arm  was  swollen, 
discoloured,  and  paining  horribly.  The  doctor 
didn't  know  what  was  wrong  and  I  didn't  tell  him, 
but  I  was  sent,  as  O'Brien  had  also  been,  to  do  "light 
work" — which  meant  loading  cars  with  coal  from  a 
huge  heap  on  the  ground.  Since  we  were  away  from 
the  regular  guards  there,  and  were  better  used,  it  was 
perhaps  worth  while.  And  as  we  worked  we  deter- 
mined that  we  would  make  another  attempt  to  get 
away  the  next  night  we  were  put  back  on  the  Kokerie. 

As  this  did  not  happen  immediately,  and  inas- 
much as  I  was  getting  frantic,  I  decided  to  try  an- 
other method.  Recollections  of  every  instance  of 
cruelty  and  abuse  which  came  to  me  then  made  my 
blood  boil  and  I  got  to  hate  the  Germans  so  fiercely 
that  even  the  sound  of  their  voices  made  my  hair 
stand.  To  escape  became  an  obsession  that  burned 
in  my  brain  day  and  night.  If  I  had  not  at  last 
succeeded  I  believe  I  should  have  gone  mad.  My 
heart  was  breaking;  every  failure  only  made  me  more 
determined  and  more  stubborn. 


OUT  OF  THE  "BLACK  HOLE"  227 

In  the  middle  of  the  week  O'Brien  and  I  decided  to 
try  to  dig  a  tunneL  With  a  pocket  knife  and  about 
six  inches  of  a  small  saw  blade  we  managed  to  get  a 
hole  in  the  floor  under  my  bunk  and  started  to  dig. 
We  found  soon  that  this  was  practically  impossible 
for  when  the  barrack  had  been  erected  a  brick  had 
been  left  out  of  the  foundation  wall  here  and  there, 
probably  to  guard  against  just  such  attempts,  and 
it  was  possible  to  see  from  outside  what  was  going  on. 
Even  when  digging  I  could  see  the  legs  of  the  guards 
passing  up  and  down  outside.  Again,  the  only 
place  we  could  have  emerged  was  on  the  main 
street  of  the  town  alongside  a  street  lamp.  That 
seemed  to  be  running  too  great  a  risk,  so  we  gave  it 
up.  (Some  months  later,  however,  that  tunnel  was 
put  through  by  three  of  my  chums;  and  through  it 
they  actually  got  away.) 

On  Saturday  night  O'Brien  and  I  were  put  on 
heavy  work  again  and  we  knew  the  time  had  arrived 
for  another  desperate  attempt  for  freedom.  We  were 
working  together  and  when  the  time  came  to  go  to 
the  midnight  meal  were  well  behind  with  our  task. 
The  bosses  began  to  hover  round  us  as  if  suspecting 
something  and  ready  to  start  driving  us.  That  de- 
cided us. 

We  had  our  dinner  in  the  wash  house  with  the 
guards  in  the  same  room,  but  lying  on  the  floor  to 
one  side  after  dinner  we  drew  up  our  plans,  to  be 
carried  out  on  our  return  to  work. 

At  about  half-past  one  we  formed  in  fours  as  usual 
at  the  foot  of  the  stairs  leading  up  to  the  elevated 
platform  of  the  Kokerie  and  were  counted.  Every- 
thing being  all  right  the  two  guards  stationed  on 
top  went  to  their  posts.  We  followed  and  the  guards 
on  the  ground  took  up  their  position  in  a  circle  at 
intervals  all  round  the  plant. 


228  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

O'Brien  and  I  followed  our  guard  a  little  more 
closely  than  usual,  right  at  his  heels  in  fact,  and  when 
he  was  about  to  turn  round  to  take  up  his  position 
so  that  he  could  oversee  the  platform  we  dropped 
over  the  side  down  to  the  tracks  below.  The  other 
boys,  whom  we  had  primed,  started  a  row  to  attract 
the  guard's  attention,  and  because  he  was  looking 
round  to  see  what  w^as  wrong,  he  did  not  miss  us— 
for  a  time  at  least.  One  old  guard  had  his  post  on  the 
ground  just  about  at  the  spot  where  we  dropped. 
Fortunately  he  was  a  little  slow  in  getting  on  the 
job  or  we  should  have  landed  on  top  of  him.  That 
was  one  point  where  fortune  favoured  us. 

The  whole  yard  was  brightly  lighted  but  we  crawled 
across  it  on  our  stomachs,  by  great  good  luck  es- 
caped being  seen,  and  stopped  for  a  minute  or  two 
at  a  little  hill  in  the  corner — where  a  few  trees  gave 
some  shelter — to  change  our  clothes.  We  had  tried 
to  remove  the  identifying  marks  but,  having  found 
that  impossible,  had  lined  the  garments  with  brown 
cloth  from  an  old  civilian  overcoat,  and  now  we 
turned  them  inside  out. 

We  were  climbing  the  fence  on  the  side  opposite 
the  camp  and  congratulating  ourselves  that  things 
had  gone  well  so  far  when  we  heard  the  alarm  sound! 
We  knew  that  we  had  been  missed.  This  was  not 
more  than  five  minutes  after  we  had  dropped  off  the 
platform;  not  much  of  a  start,  but  almost  more 
than  we  had  hoped  for.  An  awful  row  was  in  prog- 
ress on  the  Kokerie;  we  could  hear  the  guards  curs- 
ing and  shouting  and  could  picture  them  knocking 
our  comrades  about  and  these  latter  doing  their 
best  to  keep  the  guards  busy  so  as  to  give  us  the 
utmost  possible  chance. 

The  outfit  we  had  prepared  to  bring  along  with 
us  this  time  varied  little  from  that  previously  carried 


OUT  OF  THE  "BLACK  HOLE"  229 

on  similar  excursions.  Besides  a  little  food,  we  had 
— sealed  up  in  a  '^ Kaffee  pullen,"  or  water  can  which 
every  prisoner  carried — the  invaluable  map  and  com- 
pass, a  small  searchlight,  and  a  small  tin  of  pepper. 
A  number  of  dogs  had  been  provided  at  K47  for 
chasing  escaping  prisoners.  We  didn't  mean  to  be 
followed  long  by  these  dogs.  And  soon  after  starting 
we  took  mighty  good  care  to  cover  our  trail  pretty 
thickly  with  the  pepper.  When  they  came  along 
there,  sniffing,  it  would  keep  them  from  doing  any 
more  smelling  for  some  considerable  time.  It  must 
have  worked  for  v/e  neither  saw  nor  heard  anything 
of  them. 

For  a  couple  of  hours  we  travelled  along  at  a  good 
clip  and — the  ground  being  familiar — we  made  good 
time.  A  little  stream  that  we  crossed  seemed  like  an 
old  friend.  I  remembered  how  high  my  hopes  had 
been  when  I  had  crossed  it  each  time  before  but  this 
time  we  were  determined  to  get  through  or  to  perish 
in  the  attempt,  and  prospects,  somehow,  seemed 
brighter. 

Daylight  came  early  at  that  time  of  the  year  and 
since,  by  reason  of  that  fact,  we  knew  we  could 
scarcely  count  on  crossing  the  River  Lippe  that 
first  night,  we  deemed  it  wiser  when  we  got  within 
reach  of  it  at  early  dawn,  some  little  time  before 
four  o'clock,  to  crawl  into  a  small  bush,  where  we 
started  a  fire  with  a  few  dry  sticks  to  dry  our  clothes. 
While  we  needed  this — the  morning  being  chilly — 
we  knew  that  search  parties  would  hkely  be  scouring 
the  country  for  us,  and  so  we  soon  put  the  fire  out. 

For  some  time  we  lay  on  the  edge  of  the  bush. 
Then  O'Brien  suggested  that  it  might  be  safer  further 
in — so  in  we  went.  We  had  been  in  the  new  spot 
but  a  few  minutes  when  we  heard  someone  coming. 
Presently  an  old  German,  carrying  a  double-barrelled 


230  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

shotgun,  entered  the  bush  just  where  we  had  been 
lying  and  headed  straight  toward  where  we  now  were 
crouching.  Straight  as  a  die  he  advanced,  and  as  we 
lay  there  close  to  the  earth,  we  were  making  prepara- 
tions to  give  him  some  severe  treatment  but  feehng 
that  only  a  miracle  could  save  us.  Then,  when  he 
was  not  more  than  twenty  feet  away,  he  turned 
aside  and  walked  slowly  past,  looking  around  as  he 
went  by.  We  were  surprised  as  well  as  relieved  for 
we  could  not  imagine  how  he  had  missed  us;  but 
when  I  got  up  to  take  a  look  round  a  little  later 
saw  that  the  scrub  we  were  in  was  so  short  and  thick 
that  the  old  chap  had  looked  right  over  our  heads. 

When  darkness  settled  down  again  after  a  quiet 
day  we  saw  the  sky  lit  up  by  the  lights  of  a  town  that 
we  took  to  be  Haltern  and  we  made  for  it,  intending 
to  cross  the  river  by  swimming  it.  Just  in  the  out- 
skirts, however,  we  found  a  little  old  narrow-gauge 
railway  bridge,  which  had  evidently  not  been  used 
for  a  long  time  and  which  was  barricaded  with  barbed 
wire  and  wreckage  of  all  sorts.  We  managed  to  pick 
an  opening  through  this  junk  and  without  much  dif- 
ficulty crossed  on  to  the  dark,  low  flats,  close  beside 
the  town.  After  a  good  deal  of  manoeuvring  we  man- 
aged to  get  through  the  purlieus,  crawling  through 
acres  of  gardens,  and  then,  in  the  open,  soon  put  the 
lights  behind  us. 

When  well  clear,  and  everything  seemed  quiet,  we 
stopped  and  snapped  on  our  light  in  order  to  set  a 
course  by  the  compass.  And  here  I  got  a  surprise. 
We  carefully  covered  our  light  when  we  turned  it  on 
the  compass  and  quickly  switched  it  off  when  we  got 
what  we  wanted.  But  the  face  of  that  compass  re- 
mained illuminated  for  half  an  hour.  After  that  we 
never  turned  the  light  on  except  in  a  pocket.  By 
holding  the  compass  over  the  top  of  the  Hght  the  face 


OUT  OF  THE  "BLACK  HOLE"  231 

got  the  necessary  illumination  and  gave  us  the  direc- 
tion we  wanted  without  running  any  risk  of  giving  us 
away.  This  certainly  helped  a  good  deal  on  that 
trip. 

Striking  northward  we  soon  came  to  a  bit  of  moor 
with  a  wire  fence  running  across  it.  We  followed 
the  fence  but  hadn't  gone  far  when  we  met  another 
fellow,  also  following  the  fence.  We  saw  one  an- 
other at  the  same  moment.  Instantly  he  "beat  it" 
back  his  way  while  we — just  as  quickly — made  off  in 
ours.  At  the  time  we  had  no  suspicions  as  to  who  it 
was  but,  talking  it  over,  later,  we  concluded  that  he 
also  must  have  been  an  escaping  prisoner.  No  one 
else  could  have  run  so  quickly.  In  any  case,  we  saw 
no  more  of  him. 

The  experience  I  had  had  in  the  Canadian  bush 
and  in  the  north  country  before  the  war  stood  me  in 
good  stead  now  and  we  made  excellent  headway, 
shaping  our  course  most  of  the  time  by  the  stars. 
O'Brien  followed  me  closely  and  proved  to  be  the 
very  best  sort  of  pal  I  could  have  had.  He  never 
grumbled  or  argued  but  if  he  thought  I  was  getting  a 
little  off  the  course  he  would  touch  me  softly  with 
his  stick  and  we  w^ould  stop  and  check  up  again. 

The  httle  food  we  had  been  able  to  bring  was 
exhausted  the  first  day  and  thus  we  were  forced  to 
provide  for  ourselves  along  the  way.  About  the 
only  thing  available  was  the  seed  potatoes  recently 
planted,  which  we  dug  up  in  the  fields  at  night.  I 
happened  to  have  the  big  red  handkerchief,  my 
"Crown  and  Anchor"  game,  along  with  me  and  this 
came  in  very  handy  for  carrying  the  potatoes.  One 
morning  we  happened  on  a  good-sized  bit  of  bush  and, 
as  the  air  was  laden  with  fog,  we  took  a  chance  and 
lighted  a  fire  and  tried  to  cook  some  potatoes  in  an 
old  tin  can.     We  boiled  them  for  hours,  but  even  with 


232  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

that  they  were  as  tough  as  baseballs  and  we  didn't 
think  it  worth  while  to  try  that  scheme  again.  I'm 
sure  we  ate  bushels  of  those  potatoes  during  that 
trip;  it  was  only  these  that  kept  us  going  at  all. 

Leaving  this  bush  we  were  nearly  caught  by  a  man 
with  a  gun  but  we  managed  to  elude  him.  That 
night,  also,  was  a  memorable  one,  for  we  came  into  a 
big  pasture  where  one  lone  cow  was  lying.  Driving 
her  up  into  a  corner  I  scratched  her  back  while 
O'Brien  milked  her.  That  was  a  splendid  drink,  the 
finest  I  ever  had,  and  for  a  moment  or  two  we  had 
some  fool  notion  of  taking  that  cow  along  with  us. 

Coming  out  on  a  high  ridge  later  we  saw  the 
lights  of  what  we  knew  to  be  Diilmen  Camp,  when  a 
host  of  memories — most  of  them  of  a  nature  to  stir 
my  anger — were  brought  back. 

Again,  as  in  the  former  attempts,  we  found  it 
hard  to  get  satisfactory  cover  during  the  day.  We 
were  determined  not  to  be  caught  again,  so  took 
more  and  greater  precautions.  Every  opportunity 
was  taken.  We  stayed,  on  different  days,  in  the  long 
grass  and  reeds  by  a  creek,  under  an  old  culvert,  in  a 
bit  of  bush,  or  even  in  a  ditch. 

One  day  we  were  lying  on  a  little  sheltered  knoll 
between  two  farms.  I  was  dreaming  I  was  home 
and,  reaching  out  my  arm  for  a  pillow,  gathered  in  a 
little  porcupine  that  had  strayed  near  us  looking  for 
a  warm  berth.  He  didn't  make  a  very  comforting 
bedfellow,  and  when  his  sharp  quills  began  to  work 
in  I  soon  realized  that  I  was  not  at  home.     So  did  he. 

As  we  grew  more  tired  and  hungry  the  temptation 
to  follow  roads  and  trails  became  strong  but  we 
stuck  stubbornly  to  the  fields.  One  night  we  came 
on  the  most  beautiful  bit  of  road  I  have  ever  seen  and 
crossing  this  near  a  farmhouse,  found  two  or  three 
big  cans  of  milk  set  out  for  the  early  morning  collec- 


OUT  OF  THE  "BLACK  HOLE"  233 

tion.  When  we  left  them,  a  Httle  later,  we  could 
hardly  walk;  but  we  were  tempted  to  try  to  carry 
one  of  these  cans  with  us. 

For  seven  nights  we  plodded  steadily  along.  The 
seventh  morning  brought  us  to  a  little  town  in  the 
centre  of  a  thickly  populated  farming  district.  The 
smoke  rising  from  several  chimneys  as  we  passed 
warned  us  that  it  was  time  to  be  under  cover  and 
we  looked  round  desperately.  Finally  we  found  a 
small  strip  of  pine  in  a  hollow  close  by.  It  was  small 
and  more  or  less  open  but  it  was  the  best  in  sight. 
But  though  the  bush  itself  was  small  and  open  there 
was  in  the  centre  a  low,  wet  hole  full  of  brush  and . 
long  grass.     We  crawled  in  there   and  lay  down. 

Very  shortly  afterward  we  heard  voices;  two  Ger- 
man girls  came  into  the  bush  to  gather  bundles  of 
wood  which  they  then  piled  up  close  beside  us.  We 
lay  as  still  as  possible,  but  were  in  danger  of  discov- 
ery every  minute,  for  the  girls  worked  all  around  us 
— so  close  that  we  could  hear  every  word  they  said. 
About  noon  we  were  much  relieved  to  hear  them  say 
that  they  had  finished.  Although  they  left  the 
bush  we  decided  to  stay  there — for  a  while.  We 
knew  we  were  within  four  or  five  miles  of  the  Border 
and  were  keen  on  taking  no  chances.  At  about  one- 
thirty  we  were  surprised  to  hear  the  same  girls' 
voices  approaching.  This  time  three  of  them  came 
and  began  to  work  on  the  other  side  of  us  but  piling 
their  wood  where  they  had  placed  it  in  the  morning. 

At  last  they  announced  they  had  finished  and 
began  to  get  ready  to  go  away  when  a  deep,  guttural, 
masculine  voice  from  the  road  caught  our  attention. 
An  old  man  who  appeared  to  be  the  boss  was  object- 
ing because  the  girls  were  going  home  so  early,  de- 
claring there  was  more  wood  in  the  patch  and  that 
they  would  have  to  look  for  it. 


234  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

We  held  our  breath  as  they  came  back  the  third 
time  but,  after  discussing  the  matter,  they  sat  down 
by  the  pile  for  a  while  and  then  went  home. 

That  day  I  took  off  an  extra  pair  of  trousers  I 
had  been  wearing  and  made  a  pair  of  moccasins 
apiece  for  O'Brien  and  myself.  That  night  we  took 
off  our  boots,  tied  them  on  our  belts,  and  with  the 
cloth  moccasins  slipped  along  as  smoothly  and  si- 
lently as  a  pair  of  ghosts. 

We  ran  across  a  herd  of  cattle  the  same  night  and 
greeted  them  joyfully.  The  continued  cold,  hunger, 
and  fatigue  were  telling  on  us  pretty  seriously  and  a 
good  drink  of  milk  would  have  put  new  life  into  us. 
But  these  cows  were  all  dr3^ 

It  will  be  remembered,  probably,  that  advice 
had  been  given  me  by  one  or  two  persons — when 
telling  me  how  heavily  guarded  the  Border  was — 
to  try  to  strike  northward  for  the  big  swamps. 
Wallie  Nicholson  had  been  given  the  same  advice 
and  now  I  determined  to  act  on  it.  When  we  en- 
tered this  region  the  temptation  to  follow  the  narrow 
trails  we  crossed  frequently  was  very  strong.  It  was 
no  joke  at  any  time,  but  was  particularly  hard,  in  our 
weakened  condition,  to  plug  along  through  that 
slimy  mud,  never  knowing  what  the  next  mintue 
might  bring,  or  when  the  quicksands  which  abound 
in  that  sort  of  country  might  engulf  us.  To  follow 
these  paths,  however,  would  have  meant  almost 
certain  capture  since  they  were  scoured  by  patrols 
all  along  the  Border.  So  we  w^orked  our  way  slowly 
through  the  stinking  mud,  picking  our  path  around 
the  worst  spots,  feeling  with  our  sticks  ahead  of 
us  and  with  our  ears  alert  for  the  slightest  sound  in 
the  darkness  ahead. 

The  stars  shone  brightly  that  night  but  underfoot 
it  was  as  black  as  death  and  the  silence  was  oppres- 


The  map  which  brought  the  Author  out  of  Germany 


White  line  indicates  the  Holland  Border. 
Small  black  dots  outline  route  of  first  attempted  escape. 
Dots  and  crosses  show  route  of  second  attempt. 
Large  dots  mark  route  of  successful  attempt. 


OUT  OF  THE  "BLACK  HOLE"  235 

sive.  Keeping  on  till  midnight  we  crossed  a  trail 
and  had  gone  only  a  short  distance  to  the  left  when 
we  heard  a  sound  like  someone  moving  on  the  trail. 
Straining  my  eyes  through  the  dark,  I  thought  I 
could  distinguish  a  dim  form  a  little  distance  off — a 
guard,  probably.  We  dropped  on  our  faces  in  the 
mud  to  wait  for  this  man  (whoever  he  was)  to  pass. 
Just  then  a  harsh  voice  yelled:  "Halt!"  and  a  rifle 
shot  rang  out  and  reechoed  through  the  swamp. 
For  a  few  minutes  a  perfect  pandemonium  reigned — 
rifle  shots,  shouts,  and  cries  of  pain,  mingled  with 
the  angry  yelps  of  half-starved  dogs  as  they,  so  it 
seemed,  tore  at  their  prey. 

We  lay  still  a  moment  because  we  figured  that  this 
row  would  attract  all  the  sentries  near  at  hand. 
Soon  we  heard  several  voices  apparently  trying  to 
get  the  dogs  away  from  their  victim.  Then,  think- 
ing the  time  opportune,  we  got  to  our  feet  and,  mak- 
ing a  shght  detour,  sneaked  through  the  opening  in 
the  guard  line,  as  so  nearly  as  we  could  estimate  it. 

We  plodded  on  all  through  the  night  across  the 
swamp,  and  near  morning  reached  a  big  canal. 
Following  this,  we  came  to  a  bridge,  which,  to  our 
surprise,  was  not  guarded,  so  we  stole  across  and  kept 
on,  traveUing  due  west  now,  as  we  had  been  all 
night. 

About  daylight  we  got  clear  of  the  swamps  and 
soon  sighted  a  church  steeple  rising  up  out  of  the  fog. 
Coming  through  a  wheat  field  on  the  outskirts  of  a 
little  town,  we  lay  in  a  ditch  just  off"  the  road,  waiting 
for  the  clock  to  strike.  We  had  a  feehng  that  we 
were  out  of  Germany  but  were  determined  to  take 
no  chances. 

Several  soldiers  went  by  and  we  strained  our  eyes  to 
examine  them,  but  in  the  dim  light  it  was  impossible 
to    reach    any    positive    decision    regarding    them. 


236  -       THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

They  seemed   like  Germans   and  our  hearts   sank 
again. 

Soon  the  clock  began  to  strike  and  eagerly  we 
counted  the  strokes:  "One — two — three — four — 
five — six." 

"How  many,  Jack?"  I  asked. 

"Six,  d — n  it;  only  six,"  he  answered  bitterly. 

Our  watch  showed  it  to  be  only  half-past  five  but 
we  were  looking  for  two  hours'  difference  in  the 
Dutch  time,  thinking  that  we  could  tell  from  this 
whether  we  were  in  Holland  or  not.  However,  the 
watch  was  a  German  production  in  which  we  had 
little  confidence.  After  talking  it  over  we  reached 
the  conclusion  that  we  must  have  crossed  the  Border 
in  the  night. 

It  was  running  too  big  a  risk  to  go  making  any  in- 
quiries but  we  planned  to  turn  our  flash  on  the  next 
signpost  and  beat  it  off  again. 

When  the  rising  sun  began  to  dispel  the  fog  we 
sneaked  through  the  fields  toward  a  long  row  of 
trees,  which,  as  we  expected,  bordered  a  big  road. 
Before  we  reached  this,  however,  we  came  suddenly 
on  two  men  cutting  hay  but  we  made  off  so  quickly 
that  we  were  nearly  out  of  sight  before  they  saw  us. 
They  leaned  on  their  scythes  and  looked  after  us  but 
made  no  move  to  follow — which  left  us  still  in  doubt. 

We  passed  several  women  who  merely  stared  at 
us.  We  began  to  feel  somewhat  confident  but  even 
yet  were  not  going  to  be  careless.  Coming  out  on 
the  road  to  look  for  signs  we  saw  several  people  ap- 
proaching but  dodged  back  into  the  bush  when  they 
came  near  us  until  they  went  by. 

The  very  air  seemed  different,  somehow;  laden 
with  peace  and  good  will.  We  both  felt  a  sort  of 
peaceful  contentment  which  acted  like  a  balm  to 
our  tortured  spirits  and  hungry  bodies. 


OUT  OF  THE  "BLACK  HOLE"  237 

Finally  we  found  a  sign  at  a.(jross  roads  but  to  our 
disappointment  it  was  bare,  every  vestige  of  paint 
having  been  washed  off  by  the  weather.  Near  by, 
however,  a  big,  fat  old  man  was  spreading  gravel 
on  the  road,  whistling  merrily  the  while. 

A  fat  man,  and  a  cheerful  whistle!  It  couldn't  be 
Germany.     So  we  decided  to  chance  it  again. 

"He's  too  fat  to  run  fast  anyway,"  said  O'Brien. 
So  we  walked  up  to  the  old  fellow  and  asked  him 
whether  we  were  in  Holland.  It  seemed  an  age  till 
he  answered,  and  our  eyes  must  have  burned  holes 
in  him,  we  glared  so  fiercely. 

A  broad  smile  slowly  spread  over  his  good-natured 
face  and  he  explained  that  we  were  ten  kilometres 
into  the  country. 

Without  a  word  we  turned  and  grasped  one  an- 
other by  the  hand.  There  was  nothing  to  say.  To 
know  that  we  were  free  was  enough.  To  be  away 
from  the  starvation,  the  beating,  the  abuse — the 
cruelty  of  those  German  ruffians — and  to  know  that 
these  horrors  now  belonged  to  the  past!  For- 
gotten? No.  Never  while  I  live  shall  I  be  able  to 
forget  the  sufferings  and  the  mental  agony  of  others 
and  myself  in  those  vile  prison  camps. 

The  old  Hollander  was  delighted  when  he  heard 
our  story;  he  talked  and  laughed  and  hopped  about 
on  one  foot  till  we  almost  began  to  think  he,  too, 
had  escaped.  He  insisted  on  our  eating  his  dinner 
and  making  away  with  a  long  bottle  of  milk  that 
he  had  with  him.  We  wanted  to  pay  him.  with  a 
little  of  the  money  we  had  been  able  to  bring 
through  but  he  wouldn't  hear  of  it.  After  thank- 
ing him  as  best  we  could  we  left  him  and  began  to 
drag  ourselves  along  the  road  toward  the  little  town 
ahead. 

For  eight  days  we  had  been  travelHng  on  very 


238  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

little  food  and  with  our  nerves  at  the  highest  tension. 
Now  that  we  knew  we  were  free  and  safe,  the  in- 
evitable reaction  came  on,  and  for  a  while  we  were 
so  weak,  sick,  and  giddy,  that  we  could  scarcely 
move  our  feet.  We  were  roused  out  of  this  semi- 
comatose condition,  however,  by  a  voice  speaking  in 
good  English.  Turning  at  the  very  welcome  sound 
we  saw  a  young  chap  jump  off  a  wheel  and  come 
toward  us.  He  was  a  Dutch  traveller  and  as  soon  as 
he  knew  who  we  were  he  congratulated  us  on  our  es- 
cape and  advised  us  to  go  at  once  with  him  to  the 
police. 

"But  shall  we  be  prisoners?"  I  asked  quickly. 

"Oh,  no,"  was  the  reassuring  answer.  "It's  the 
only  way  to  get  anywhere  over  here.  They  will  pick 
you  up  anyway." 

Soon  we  reached  the  little  town  of  Nieder,  where 
everybody  seemed  glad  to  see  us.  We  were  deluged 
with  good  things  to  eat  but  were  too  sick  to  touch 
anything. 

Soon  two  huge  military  policemen  rode  up  and 
escorted  us  to  the  home  of  their  chief,  just  outside 
the  town.  We  lay  in  his  orchard  for  two  days,  sleep- 
ing on  soft,  clean  hay  over  his  stables  at  night.  His 
kind-hearted  wife  supplied  us  with  tea  and  cakes, 
strawberries  and  cream,  and  all  sorts  of  good  things 
to  eat;  and  a  bunch  of  rosy-cheeked  Dutch  girls, 
from  a  near-by  factory,  often  gathered  at  the  fence 
to  talk  to  us. 

We  wanted  to  get  our  photos  taken  before  we  got 
straightened  up  but  there  was  no  photographer  in. 
the  town.  We  were  surely  terrible  sights,  but  after  a 
wash,  a  shave,  and  a  haircut,  and  the  donning  of 
clothes  supplied  by  a  kind  old  gentleman  across  the 
street,  we  looked  more  presentable.  My  suit, 
though,  was  big  enough  for  a  whole  family  and  as  I 


OUT  OF  THE  "BLACK  HOLE"  239 

was  anything  but  fat  just  then  I  must  have  cut  a 
comical  figure. 

O'Brien  was  better  oft'  and,  since  he  was  beginning 
to  come  alive  by  that  time,  began  to  exercise  upon  me 
the  spirit  his  name  implies.  However,  at  that  time 
I  was  feeling  so  well  that  nothing  could  upset  me. 


CHAPTER  XVII 
Back  to  Blighty  and  Home  Again 

We  were  held  in  Nieder  till  Monday — that  was 
the  1 8th  of  June — and  then  were  sent  in  a  big  po- 
liceman's care  to  Rotterdam.  Here  the  Dutch  au- 
thorities put  us  through  quite  an  examination  in 
which  they  asked  about  the  formation  of  our  army; 
the  number  of  men  in  battalions,  brigades,  and  divi- 
sions; and  also  as  to  the  conditions  of  the  defences  on 
the  German  Border.  Finally  thev  asked  whether  we 
wished  to  be  interned. 

It  took  about  a  second  to  tell  them  just  how  badly 
we  wanted  not  to  be  interned  so  they  turned  us  over 
to  the  British  Ambassador.  He  also  put  us  through 
quite  a  quiz,  among  other  things  asking  why  it  was 
that  so  large  a  percentage  of  those  escaping  were 
Canadians.  (We  were  Numbers  loi  and  102  of  the 
British  prisoners  who  had  escaped  he  told  us.)  Then, 
finally,  he  put  us  up  at  the  Harwich  Hotel,  owned 
by  Mrs.  Francis,  a  Dutch  lady  who  spoke  perfect 
English  and  who  was  exceedingly  kind  to  us,  as,  by 
the  way,  was  everyone  else  with  whom  we  came  in 
contact  in  Holland. 

Naturally  one  of  the  first  things  we  wanted  was 
money.  We  hadn't  seen  real  money  for  many  a  day 
and  thought  of  the  amount  of  pay  due  us.  But  that 
old  ambassador  was  a  real  tight-wad  and  put  us  on 
an  allowance  of  one  guilder  each,  about  thirty-five 
cents,  per  day.     We  soon  found  a  young  petty  offi- 

240 


BLIGHTY  AND  HOME  AGAIN  241 

cer  from  the  navy,  however,  from  whom  we  were 
able  to  get  a  Httle.  But  one  day,  when  we  were  look- 
ing in  vain  for  him  around  the  hotel,  Mrs.  Francis 
apparently  grasped  the  situation. 

"Come  now,"  she  said.  "You  might  just  as  well 
tell  me  what  you  want.  I  might  be  able  to  help  you. 
In  fact,  I  am  sure  I  can." 

y  I  hummed  and  hawed,  for  it  was  a  hard  thing  to 
confess  to  a  woman  that  we  had  no  money,  but  finally 
she  made  us  own  up  to  it. 

"I  knew  it,"  she  said.  "Now  when  you  want 
money  just  come  to  me." 

We  thanked  her  but  were  going  on  to  explain  that 
we  had  no  means  of  paying  her  back  when  she  in- 
terrupted: 

"Never  mind  about  that,"  she  said.     "When  you 

are  leaving  just  go  to  Mr. [the  Ambassador]  and 

tell  him  you  owe  Mrs.  Francis  so  much  money;  he 
will  have  to  pay."     And  she  laughed  merrily. 

From  that  time  till  we  left  we  had  plenty  of  money 
though  we  were  down  at  the  office  every  morning  to 
collect  our  guilder  just  the  same.  And  in  the  end 
we  were  able  to  follow  our  hostess's  advice  without 
any  trouble. 

For  ten  days  we  were  wandering  around  Rotterdam 
till  arrangements  could  be  made  for  our  return  to 
England  and  during  that  time  we  saw  a  good  deal  of 
this  old-fashioned  city.  One  morning,  while  looking 
for  a  Scottish  tea  room  someone  had  told  me  about, 
I  was  passing  a  vegetable  booth  in  the  market  when  I 
saw  an  old  woman  grab  a  basket  of  potatoes  and  run 
away  with  it.  The  trader  made  a  vigorous  howl  and 
a  big  policeman  chased  and  grabbed  the  poor  woman. 
As  happens  in  every  city,  a  fuss  attracts  attention 
and  in  a  few  moments  the  street  and  the  square  were 
packed  with  a  curious  throng,  trying  to  see  what  was 


242  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

happening.  Everything  was  blocked  solid  by  the 
time  the  mounted  police  arrived  and  rode  through  the 
crowd,  using  whips  and  clubs  freely.  As  soon  as 
the  police  turned,  the  people  followed  them  back 
again  and  the  crush  continued.  The  police  battled 
with  that  multitude  for  hours,  and  several  persons 
were  hurt,  but  I  am  sure  that  less  than  fifty  of  the 
whole  gathering  knew  what  it  was  about.  Then 
the  evening  papers  followed  it  up  by  headhning  a 
**Great  Potato  Riot.';  ^ 

Among  the  daily  visitors  at  the  British  Consulate 
were  forty  German  soldiers  who  had  deserted  across 
the  Border  the  week  before  and  were  trying  to  ar- 
range to  be  sent  to  England  where  they  knew  that 
German  prisoners  were  well  treated.  To  get  their 
wish  they  volunteered  all  sorts  of  information  and 
Vv'ere  willing  to  do  almost  anything.  They  had 
realized,  you  see,  that  if  Holland  should  be  forced 
into  the  war  their  position  would  be  particularly  un- 
comfortable. 

At  the  British  Consulate  one  day  I  managed  to  get 
hold  of  an  official  statement  of  the  rations  given  to 
German  prisoners  in  England.  It  is  no  wonder  those 
fellows  wanted  to  get  over  there.  Compare  the  food 
on  the  list — the  original  of  which  is  reproduced  here — 
with  the  rations  that  were  being  issued  in  the  Ger- 
man prison  camps. 

The  day  before  we  left  Holland  a  message  came  up 
from  the  British  Consul  at  The  Hague  asking  that  if 
possible  we  attend  a  conference  of  British  and  German 
officers  in  regard  to  the  treatment  and  exchange  of 
prisoners.  We  were  very  anxious  to  go  since  we  saw 
the  possibility  of  bettering  the  conditions  of  our  com- 
rades, particularly  at  the  "Black  Hole,"  but  were 
warned  to  get  aboard  the  steamer  before  the  time 
set  for  The  Hague  trip  and  so  missed  it.     At  this 


BLIGHTY  AND  HOME  AGAIN  243 

conference  the  Germans  thanked  the  British  for  their 
humane  treatment  of  prisoners.  But  the  compH- 
ment  was  not  returned. 

One  stormy  morning  we  said  good-bye  to  Holland 
and,  in  a  collection  of  boats  of  all  nations,  drifted 
slowly  down  the  Rhine.  The  neutral  vessels  had 
their  colours  displayed  in  a  broad  band  around  the 
hulls  but  the  amount  of  confidence  they  had  in  the 
German  promises  to  respect  their  neutrality  was  evi- 
denced by  the  fact  that  they  lay  sometimes  for  days 
at  the  mouth  of  the  river,  waiting  for  the  British 
convoy  collecting  up  the  river,  so  that  they  might 
share  in  the  protection  afforded  during  the  trip  across 
the  Channel. 

We  lay  off  the  Hook  of  Holland  for  a  time  and  no- 
body seemed  to  feel  very  safe  until  a  dozen  dark 
specks  appeared  out  of  the  mist,  and  soon  about 
seventeen  light  cruisers  and  destroyers  were  cutting 
circles  around  the  convoy,  like  a  school  of  huge 
sharks.  We  got  across  without  incident  and  safely 
reached  a  British  port — pulling  into  dock  close  be- 
side the  liner  which  had  carried  me  over  from  Canada 
two  years  and  a  half  before. 

An  orderly  met  us  on  arrival  and  handed  us  over 
to  the  officer  commanding  the  garrison.  He  bil- 
leted us  with  a  company  of  Royal  Engineers  pending 
receipt  of  orders  from  the  War  Office  in  London  and 
here  we  were  able  to  get  some  pretty  direct  evidence 
as  to  the  treatment  of  German  prisoners  in  England. 
The  Engineers  were  working  on  a  railway  line  some 
distance  from  camp,  at  the  usual  wage,  of  course, 
of  a  British  Tommy.  They  left  camp  in  the  morning, 
carried  a  sandwich  for  dinner,  and  marched  back  again 
for  supper.  They  told  us  that  the  German  prisoners 
on  the  same  job  were  paid  three  shillings  and  six- 
pence (84  cents)  per  man  per  day  and  enjoyed  a  hot 


244  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

dinner  which  was  carried  out  to  them  by  English 
civiHans.  They  were  rather  indignant,  and  we  didn't 
blame  them. 

Next  day  we  were  sent  on  to  London,  and  "The 
Smoke"  looked  pretty  good  to  us  after  looping  the 
loop  via  Berhn.  We  were  still  in  our  hand-me-down 
clothes  and  the  remarks  of  the  crowd  as  we  passed 
through  the  station,  at  the  heels  of  a  big  redcap  po- 
liceman, were  anything  but  complimentary.  They 
evidently  thought  we  were  a  couple  of  deserters, 
caught  and  being  brought  back.  We  were  naturally 
indignant  but  had  to  grin  and  bear  it  for  a  few  days. 
That  was  the  first  of  July  and  everyone  seemed  too 
busy  celebrating  to  look  after  anything  else.  We* 
tried  everywhere  to  get  uniforms  and  to  get  someone 
to  fix  us  up  but  all  to  no  purpose,  and  I  must  confess 
that  we  were  rather  disgusted  with  our  initial  re- 
ception in  London. 

The  next  week,  though,  we  received  lots  of  atten- 
tion. I  believe  we  were  interviewed  by  every  officer 
of  the  army  then  in  England  and  this  occasioned  a 
continual  rush  from  place  to  place.  I  became  so 
enraged  that  I  insulted  everyone  who  came  near 
me  and  I  am  sure  that  only  the  fact  that  I  had 
escaped  out  of  Germany  saved  me  from  years  of 
pack  drill. 

I  spent  all  of  one  day  in  the  Intelligence  Depart- 
ment of  the  War  Office,  and  the  information  I  had 
so  carefully  gathered  in  Germany  was  just  as  care- 
fully recorded.  I  was  able  to  give  them,  from  my 
map,  the  positions  of  several  ammunition  factories 
and  military  depots,  and  I  enjoyed  the  satisfaction 
of  having  my  report  praised  as  the  most  thorough 
and  complete,  and  containing  the  most  useful  infor- 
mation yet  furnished  by  an  escaped  prisoner.  From 
Glasgow  I  wrote  to  the  Department,  a  little  later, 


BLIGHTY  AND  HOME  AGAIN  245 

sending  on  further  information,  and  received  a  letter 
in  reply,  thanking  me  for  this. 

While  in  Holland  I  had  written  a  short  letter  to 
Wallie  Nicholson  back  in  Germany,  but,  not  daring 
to  write  in  my  own  name,  I  penned  it  as  if  I  were  his 
sister,  whose  husband  was  interned  in  Holland.  I 
only  wanted  him  to  see  my  writing,  knowing  that 
this  would  give  him  the  desired  information:  I  signed 
myself:  "Your  loving  sister  Jean."  I  had  promised;, 
if  O'Brien  and  I  got  through,  to  try  to  let  him  know 
how  we  got  along,  how  the  plan  to  work  through  the 
swamps  in  the  north  worked  out.  So  I  sat  down  one 
day  in  England,  when  time  offered,  and  wrote  him  a 
long  letter  in  which  I  told  him  I  had  just  arrived  in 
London  from  Canada,  and  spoke  of  a  hunting  trip 
I  had  taken  **Up  north"  before  leaving  home.  "The 
same  trip,"  I  said,  "that  you  and  I  took  before." 
Thus,  in  a  roundabout  way,  I  managed  to  tell  him 
all  about  it,  and  I  heard  from  him  afterward  that 
the  letter  arrived  safely.  Through  the  information 
it  contained  five  of  my  chums  were  successful  in 
escaping,  but  poor  old  Wallie  failed  again  in  his  third 
attempt,  and  I  fear  is  still  in  Germany. 

We  were  soon  in  uniform  again,  and  began  to  feel 
better,  particularly  when  we  were  very  kindly  treated 
around  Canadian  Headquarters  in  London.  General 
Turner,  Commanding  Officer  there,  was  particularly 
kind,  and  told  us  to  come  to  him  if  we  wanted  any- 
thing. When  we  were  leaving,  he  patted  us  on  the 
back  and  asked  what  we  wanted  to  do  now.  "You 
may  have  a  job  either  in  England  or  in  Canada;  or 
your  discharge,"  he  said.  We  were  both  feeling 
anxious  for  reprisals,  and  volunteered  for  our  own 
regiments  again,  but  he  would  not  hsten  to  this. 
Ultimately  we  were  sent  home  without  bein^  con- 
sulted at  all. 


246  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

A  week  or  two  was  spent  in  Bramshott  Camp, 
where  we  found  moral  conditions  much  better  than 
we  had  experienced  around  Folkestone  in  1915. 

From  Bramshott  we  went  to  Buxton  Discharge 
Depot,  and  had  another  glimpse  of  Germans  in  an 
English  Prison  Camp,  and  also,  to  our  indignation, 
something  closely  resembling  a  Canadian  Prison 
Camp. 

A  number  of  German  prisoners  were  working  just 
then  in  the  stone  quarries  near  Buxton,  and  one  day 
'I  had  a  chance  to  go  up  and  look  at  them.  No  one 
was  allowed  near  the  place  without  a  permit,  but 
when  I  told  one  of  the  sentries  that  I  had  just  come 
out  of  a  German  Prison  Camp,  he  let  me  look  on  for 
a  while.  The  contrast  between  conditions  here  and 
those  that  we  had  endured  was  astounding.  These 
fellows  were  all  fat  and  healthy-looking,  and  seemed 
to  be  enjoying  themselves.  A  few  were  doing  a 
little  work;  some  of  them,  nothing  at  all.  The  guard 
told  me  that  he  had  nothing  to  do  with  the  prisoners, 
that  he  must  not  interfere  in  any  way  unless  they 
made  some  attempt  to  escape.  It  was  evident  that 
they  were  well-fed  and  comfortably  housed,  and  that 
they  were  not  forced  in  any  way  to  work,  though 
they  were  under  the  direct  control  of  British  civilian 
foremen. 

Arriving  at  Buxton  on  a  cold,  rainy  night,  we  were 
surprised,  when  marching  up  to  the  camp,  to  meet 
crowds  of  soldiers,  many  of  them  crippled,  walking 
through  the  heavy  rain  to  the  town;  but  a  few  days 
in  the  camp  solved  the  mystery.  The  depot  there 
is  a  centre  where  all  the  crippled  and  incapacitated 
Canadians  are  transferred  from  the  training  camps 
and  convalescent  homes.  Many  hospital  cases— 
that  is,  men  who  would  ordinarily  travel  on  hospital 
ships — were  not  included. 


BLIGHTY  AND  HOME  AGAIN  247 

In  Bramshott  Camp,  where  those  of  strength  and 
health  (Class  A  men)  were  being  trained  for  the 
front,  not  a  sentry  was  posted  around  the  camp, 
and  only  a  stray  military  policeman,  who  never 
seemed  to  have  much  to  do,  was  in  evidence.  In 
Buxton,  on  the  contrary,  where  practically  only  sick 
or  crippled  men  were  handled,  the  camp  was  heavily 
policed  at  all  times,  and  a  large  number  of  guards 
were  on  duty  at  night.  A  high  board  fence,  topped 
with  barbed  wire,  ran  around  the  whole  building, 
and  the  sentries  prowled  around  the  grounds  at 
night,  apparently  to  get  hold  of  some  poor,  half- 
crippled  chap  who  had  done  his  bit,  and  was  now 
guilty  of  some  slight  infraction  of  discipline. 

Conditions  in  the  building  itself  were  similarly 
surprising.  It  was  a  large,  four-story  hotel,  but 
inasmuch  as  the  lifts  were  all  closed,  and  the  broad, 
easy  stair  running  up  the  centre  of  the  building  was 
reserved  for  the  officers  and  staff,  the  men  had  to 
climb  up  a  little,  narrow  set  of  almost  perpendicular 
emergency  stairs,  which  were  hard  enough  even  for  a 
healthy  man  to  ascend.  The  building  looked 
splendid  from  the  outside,  and  was  surrounded  by 
lovely  grounds,  but  the  inside  was  a  most  barren 
spot.  There  was  nothing  in  it  except  the  beds  of 
the  men  sleeping  in  the  rooms,  and  since  it  was 
housing  about  twice  the  number  it  should  accommo- 
date, every  hall-way,  landing,  and  corridor  was 
crowded  at  night  with  sleepers. 

Reveille  sounded  at  six  o'clock,  and  at  six-thirty 
everyone  was  paraded  in  front  of  the  barracks- 
Here  the  men  broke  up,  to  fall  in  again  in  front  of 
the  kitchen,  where  some  had  to  stand  for  over  an 
hour  waiting  their  turn.  Breakfast  over,  they  rushed 
upstairs  to  scrub  up  their  rooms  and  make  everything 
ready  for  inspection.     At  nine  o'clock  another  parade 


248  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

was  called,  and  from  then  until  eleven,  often  after- 
ward, no  man  was  allowed  in  his  room,  but  had  to 
stay  outside,  rain  or  shine,  until  the  orderly  officer 
had  inspected  the  quarters.  After  eleven  o'clock 
we  got  our  knives  and  forks  and  fell  in  for  dinner, 
again  having  to  stand  for  an  hour  or  more.  Another 
parade — of  uncertain  duration — followed  at  two, 
and  after  that  the  mail  was  called  in  the  yard. 
Sometimes,  if  one  wanted  his  mail,  he  had  to  stand 
out  there  till  five  o'clock.  Then  the  camp  gates 
were  opened,  and  we  were  free  till  nine-thirty.  It 
was  parade  after  parade  all  day  long,  and  I  was 
often  sorry  for  the  weaker  men.  I  was  strong  and 
healthy,  and  by  that  time  was  feehng  fairly  fit,  but 
I  found  fife  in  Buxton  a  hardship,  and  would  cer- 
tainly much  rather  have  been  in  France.  For  the 
weaker  men,  who  were  crippled  and  ill,  it  was  cer- 
tainly anything  but  pleasant. 

There  was  a  recreation  room,  so-called,  where 
about  three  hundred  of  the  eighteen  hundred  men 
in  the  camp  could  find  standing  room,  and  where 
about  fifty  could  sit  on  the  bare  pine  benches  to 
write  at  the  similarly  bare  tables.  The  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
had  a  small  corner  in  this  recreation  room,  and  here 
was  a  chance  for  the  organization  to  do  something 
worth  while  for  the  boys  who  had  done  their  bit, 
but  as  there  was,  usually,  very  little  money  among 
the  men — because  their  books  were  being  balanced 
and  the  men,  in  consequence,  able  to  draw  little  or 
nothing — they  could  purchase  but  very  little. 

The  Commanding  Officer  was  an  outspoken,  fair- 
minded,  and  (I  believe)  a  fearless  man,  of  the  type 
I  would  have  liked  to  serve  under — in  France,  but 
not  in  Buxton.  He  seemed  to  forget  that  he  was  in 
command  of  a  Discharge  Depot  and  that  his  men  were 
unfit  for  further  service. 


BLIGHTY  AND  HOME  AGAIN  249 

Of  course,  as  is  customary  in  the  British  army, 
there  was  a  chance  to  make  complaints.  Every  man, 
before  leaving  Buxton,  was  asked  to  sign  a  complaint 
sheet  in  which  he  might  state  any  objections  he  had 
to  the  place  or  to  the  treatment  he  had  received.  As 
in  other  cases,  this  worked  out  automatically  so  that 
the  complaints  were  very  few.  If  any  man  made  a 
complaint,  it  meant  that  he  would  likely  be  held  for 
weeks  or  months  while  an  investigation  was  made, 
and  then  he  would  not  be  likely  to  gain  anything 
material.  So,  since  everyone  was  most  anxious  to 
get  home,  the  complaint  sheets  were  all  **0.  K." 

However,  all  these  discomforts  were  soon  to  be 
left  behind.  At  last  the  Great  Day  arrived,  and  I 
was  mighty  glad  to  be  on  board  a  huge  liner.  Home- 
ward Bound. 

The  sea  was  smooth  and  the  trip  comfortable:  the 
little  spice  of  adventure  which  was  present  in  the 
constant  fear  of  a  submarine  attack  provided  against 
monotony.  We  were  escorted  across  by  a  much- 
camouflaged  cruiser,  which  ran  like  a  machine. 
Search  her  as  we  would,  even  with  glasses,  not  a  sign 
of  life  could  we  see  on  board.  I  had  begun  to  think 
she  was  a  phantom  ship,  but  one  night  that  idea  was 
very  quickly  dispelled  when  she  dropped  a  couple  of 
targets  and  began  running  around  in  circles  while  our 
old  boat  was  shaken  with  the  concussion  of  her  guns. 

The  same  night  we  passed  Sable  Island,  not  in- 
viting in  itself,  but  we  knew  it  was  Canada,  and  so  it 
looked  mighty  good.  Next  morning,  when  I  awoke, 
I  felt  that  the  engines  were  stopped,  and  heard  ex- 
cited voices  on  the  deck  above.  Slipping  into  my 
clothes,  I  rushed  up  on  deck,  and  there,  ahead,  I  be- 
held the  most  beautiful  sight  I  could  imagine — the 
Homeland  that  I  had  despaired  of  seeing  again. 

We  were  lying  just  outside  Halifax  harbour.     The 


250  THE  KAISER'S  GUEST 

sun — rising  like  a  huge,  yellow  ball — was  giving  to 
the  sky,  and  to  the  banks  of  clouds  around  the  har- 
bour, a  most  gorgeous  colouring,  while  the  harbour 
mouth  itself  showed  up  in  the  centre  like  a  beloved 
old  picture  in  a  beautiful  frame.  Lying  on  the  rocks 
at  the  harbour  mouth,  shining  up  white  and  ghostly 
through  the  mist,  was  the  wreck  of  a  big  Hospital 
Ship,  a  last  warning  to  the  war-worn  soldiers  of  the 
innate  ruthlessness  of  their  enemies — and  a  reminder 
of  the  gallant  comrades  who  peacefully  sleep  in 
Flanders'  fields. 
And  so  Good-bye — and  *'The  best  o'  luck." 


THE    END 


THE  COUNTRY  LIFE  PRESS 
GARDEN  CITY,  N.  Y. 


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